Ylliria's lost Throne
by Nuwanda65
Summary: This story is based on the HBO TV Series 'Game of Thrones' and mainly focused on the Stark House. Even if events and scenes from the Season 1 and 2's episodes have been used as base, the main story is totally fictional to blend in a new character: The young Lady Ylliria Bennett.
1. Chapter 1

**Ylliria's lost Throne**

**This story is based on the HBO TV Series 'Game of Thrones' (my new passion! LOL!) and mainly focused on the Stark House.**

**Even if I took my primal inspiration from the events and scenes from the Season 1 and 2's episodes, the main story is totally fictional to blend in my main character: The young Lady Ylliria Bennett.**

**I am an eternal softie, so it is more romantic oriented than adventurous or epic (Just for you to know where you'll put your feet in!)**

**A last note: English is not my mother tong and I'm only writing for fun, relaxation after a long day and to improve my language knowledge. So, if you see grammatical mistakes and some strange phrasing, please let me know. I won't go all upset about it, the contrary. **

**Hope you'll enjoy it.**

**Take care.**

Chapter 1: Another ordinary day in Winterfell

A brown-haired ten year old boy is bending his bow, concentrating at the straw-made target 50 feet away. He shoots the arrow, but totally misses it, the tip landing in one of the barrels staked in the back.

"Huh…" He heavily sighs.

"Go on… Try again..." His older brother orders, standing next to him.

The boy takes another arrow, adjusts it on the bow, aims and shoots. This time, the tip narrowly touches the target, making the two other young men assisting at the practice giggle.

"Enough, you... I asked for support, not to mock him..." The elder tells them. "It was better, Bran… But, you are still aiming to high..." He continues in a gently tone.

At the balcony, above the courtyard, his parents and a fine young woman are following his progress. Bran lifts his head towards them, a shy smile on his face. Lord Stark, his father, winks to encourage him to make another attempt. This time the tip sticks at the edge of the circle.

"That will be enough for today… Bran, go clean up and see Belinda in the kitchen… She will fix you dinner. " Lady Stark intervenes.

The boy hands the bow back to his older brother. "Will you still train me, Robb?"

"Of course, kid… We'll do our next practice in a day or two…" Robb says, ruffling his mid-long hair.

.

"In a few years, that boy will be the best archer in Winterfell…" Eddard Stark proudly stands, offering an arm to his wife and walking her back inside.

Still on the balcony, Lady Ylliria Bennett is giving a last glimpse down at the group of three young gentlemen discussing and laughing in the courtyard. Jon Snow, a well-built black-haired gent, is sticking the arrows he collected around in a sand box. He unexpectedly looks up and softly smiles at her. She returns his smile, slightly blushing before following the Stark couple.

.

In the kitchen, Bran rejoins his little brother Rickon and his two sisters Sansa and Arya around the table. Belinda, the kitchen-maid, brings him a steaming bowl of fresh made stag stew. He grabs the round loaf and rips a large piece of bread to accompany his meal.

"So, my dear brother… How much arrows did you miss today?... Or let it make easier for you, how much did actually hit the target?…" Arya chuckles.

"Arya, why are you always so mean to everybody?..." Sansa exclaims.

"I am not mean…"

"Yes, you are…"

"Am not!..." The youngest protests.

"Hush now girls and eat up your dinner!…" Ylliria intervenes, entering the room. "And how was your embroidery lesson this morning, huh?... How many times did you prick your finger, little dragon?..."

"That is not funny..." Arya complains.

"And you think your brother liked what you just said to him?..." Ylliria lightly reprimands her.

"I'm sorry, Bran... I did not mean to offend you..." The little girl softly apologizes.

"It's all right, Arya... I know I'm no good at archery..." Bran pouts.

"Don't say that... Just keep practicing... And to tell you a secret, I remember Robb and Jon at your age... Oh, by all the Gods... They were hopeless!..." Ylliria sits down amongst them, finally making the young boy smile.

"Ylliria?... Will you read me a story tonight at my bedtime?..." Rickon asks her with his high-pitched little voice.

"If you finish your plate and you'd be very kind to Maester Luwin this afternoon… Yes…" She gently smiles at him. "Belinda, pour me a cup of wine cut with water, please?"

"Yes, Milady…" The kitchen-maid makes a little curtsey at the request.

"You did very well today, Bran… And you want to know something else?... I overheard you father saying to your mother that he thinks that one day you will be the best archer in the county…" Ylliria comments, gracefully sipping on her cup.

The young boy just shrugs and starts to eat his meal.

.

After having helped the four younger Stark's children with their dinner, Ylliria finally rejoins the rest of the family in the main room to have her own lunch.

"Are they all at their duties?" Lady Starks asks her.

"Yes, My Lady… I gave permission to Sansa to work a little more on her new gown…" The young woman explains, sitting between Jon and Theon, Lord Starks' red-haired squire. Immediately a maid brings her a plate with a small piece of pheasant, some vegetables and potatoes. Robb is pouring some red wine in her wooden cup. "Oh, not too much... Thank you, Robb..." She gently smiles at him.

All of a sudden, Winterfell's Master-at-Arms bursts into the room. "Sorry to interrupt, My Lord… But a Guard arrived from the hills with an urgent message…"

"It's all right, Rodrik…" Eddard says, making a gesture with his hand giving the man permission to speak.

"They have captured a deserter from the Night's Watch…"

Lord Stark sighs. "Theon, saddle our horses…" He orders his squire. "Ylliria, go fetch Bran…"

"Ned, he does not need to see this... He is only 10…" Lady Stark protests.

"He won't be a boy forever, Catelyn... And winter is coming..." He stands up, followed by Robb and Jon.

.

In the courtyard, Theon holds the rains of five horses, waiting for Lord Stark, Robb, Bran and Jon to mount them. Accompany with a few of Winterfell's Castle guards, the little troupe sets in motion.

"Why do we have to go now?... And what are you going to do with that man?..." Bran asks his father.

"The Night's Watch men swore an oath, Bran… Deserting is punishable by death… It's the Lord's responsibility to execute the sentence as soon as pronounced… And also that should swing the sword in the name of the Seven Gods..." Eddard explains, ordering his horse to move forward with a light heels' tap.

.

They all arrive at the Sacred Stone Circle at the same time than the Hill Guards, surrounding the prisoner.

Lord Stark faces the trembling young man, waiting for him to justify his act.

"I saw the White Walkers..." The deserter repeats several times. He lifts his head to look at Eddard. "I saw them… I swear to you, My Lord… They killed my two brothers… In front of my own eyes…" He stutters.

"I'm sorry, lad… But, you broke the oath…"

"I know I broke my oath... And I deserve to die... It's the law... I just implore My Lord to believe what I saw... And tell my family I died with honor and dignity..."

Lord Stark nods. When the young man places his head on the block, Ned removes the giant sword from its scabbard that Theon hands him and start to recite the Westeros Law. "I, Eddard, of the House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Governor of the North sentence you to die by beheading..."

Standing a little on the side, Lord Stark's sons are watching the scene in complete silence.

"Don't look away... Father would see it..." Jon whispers to Bran.

The condemned babbles a quick last prayer to the Gods and closes his eyes. Lord Stark raises the heavy sword and in just one swift movement, the lad's head rolls away from his body.

"You did well…" Robb tells his little brother, still standing completely stiff from what he just witnessed. He puts a gentle hand on the kid's shoulder, to comfort him and both walk back to their horses.

Lord Stark approaches his younger son, staring at him. "He said he saw the White Walkers…" Bran shyly voices.

"White-walkers have been gone for thousands of years... But, the mad man sees what he sees… We can't blame him of lying..." His father answers. "Bran, you understand why I had to punish him, do you?" He continues.

"Yes, father... He was a deserter... And it's the Law..." He quietly says, mounting his horse.

"I am proud of you, Son..." Lord Starks, gently patting his leg.

.

On their way back to the castle, through the surrounding woods, they come across a carcass of a full-grown stag. Its belly's open from the fore to the hind legs, its guts hanging on the outside.

"What could have done such a thing?... Mountain lions?..." Theon asks, going near it.

"There are none in these woods..." Lord Stark replies.

Jon hears some ruffling noises coming from down below, near the river. He tears down the slope and discovers the dead body of a Direwolf, with five cubs between its legs, still alive. He calls for the others when he sees that a piece of an antlers was planted in the animal. "A second victim..." He says.

"There are no Direwolves south of the Wall..." Robb points out.

Lord Stark stays thoughtful, looking at the cadaver.

"What are we gonna do with the little ones?... May I have one?..." Bran asks.

"I'm sorry, Son…" Lord Stark gently pets his son's shoulder, making a subtle gesture to his squire to order him to get rid of them.

"My Lord?..." Jon intervenes. "The Direwolf is the emblem of your House… There are five pups and you have five children… It's meant to be…"

"Please, father..." Bran pleads.

"All right… But, you will feed them… You will train them… And if they don't survive, you will bury them… Understood?"

His young son nods, happy that he may choose the first one. "What about you?" He asks Jon.

"I'm not really a Stark..." The young man bluntly answers. But, when he climbs back up, he sees another pup, hiding behind a tree. Despite its shaggy figure, he decides to adopt him.

"Oh, now we miss one for Ylliria..." Bran points out.

"Maybe she does not want one..." Theon smirks.

"And if she does?..." Bran sharply answers.

"I'll share Ghost with her..." Jon says.

"You will call yours Ghost?..."

"Does he not look like one?... With his white fur and his red eyes..." Jon grabs the skinny animal by the collar, lifting him in the air.

.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to the Euro Soccer Championship, I could pack another chapter for you (Computer is mine! ROFL!).**

**Hope you'll enjoy it.**

**Take care xxx**

**.**

Chapter 2: The Kind is coming

A few days later, a raven arrives from King's Landing, the capital of the Seven Kingdoms, with a message for Lord Stark.

"I am afraid those are no good news, my Lord..." House Maester Luwin hands the rolled paper to Eddard. "Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King, passed away... It seems a sudden fever took him..."

"Poor Jon..." Lord Stark whispers.

"The message… Does it say anything about my sister and her son?" Lady Stark worriedly asks.

"They are all right... The Gods have been good to them..." The Maester directly appeases her.

"And… Hum… The Kind is coming to Winterfell... With the Queen and all his court..." Eddard reads further the roll.

"If they are all coming this far north... There is only one reason the King is after..." Lady Stark comments.

"I know..." Lord Stark sighs.

.

The whole household is frantically busy to prepare the Castle for the King's and his suite arrival. Catelyn, Ylliria and the Maester are supervising every duty and every detail to be sure everything will be perfect.

"We need plenty of candles for Lord Tyrion's chamber... I am told he reads all night..." Lady Stark orders to the Maester.

"And I am told he drinks all night..." He mumbles with a smile.

"How much a man of his... Ahum... Stature can possibly drink?..." Catelyn comments, making Ylliria giggle. "Ylliria, please go to the kitchens and make the count of all the drinks we already have stored in the cellar... And check if we have enough candles in stock... We need as mush candles as possible..."

"Yes, My Lady..." She gently answers, already going for the kitchen.

"Oh... And verify that the maid used the new linen sheets for the Queen's bed..."

"Yes, My Lady..." She makes a step back and forth.

"And make sure that my little ones have all their clothing matched, clean and neat... Especially Arya..." Lady Stark continues.

"Yes, My Lady..." Ylliria repeats, now waiting for any other point to check.

"Go... Go..." Her Lady impatiently says.

.

At Tommy the barber, Jon, Robb and Theon are having a clean shave and a proper haircut. They talk about the last rumors coming from King's Landing.

"They say that the Queen is stickler for principles." Robb comments.

"And that her twin brother is a despicable person…" Theon smiles.

"A good looking despicable person, as I heard…" Robb adds.

"Says who?..."

"I overheard things from certain women…"

"What kind of women?… Come on, say the word…" Theon mocks him. Robb throws him a wet towel to make his stop. "And what has Jon to say about the King and his court, huh?..."

"I don't know those people… I never speak bad about people I never met..." Jon gloomily answers.

"Oh, come one… You must have heard something… You never go to the brothel?..."

"Theon, stop… Leave him alone…" Robb gently warns.

.

Bran sneaks out his bedroom, while Ylliria is busy with the girls. He runs to the far end of the Castle and nimbly climbs the highest tower. He wants to have the best point-of-view to see the Royal procession's arrival.

When he sees the first cavaliers on top of the hill, he hurtles down the tower, following the wall walk to the lower level and finally he jumps on the cob made roof of the blacksmith workplace. When he sets a foot on the ground, he falls face to face with his mother, looking dagger at him. "Brandon Stark!... What did I ask you already a thousand times?... NO… MORE… CLIMBING!"

"But, mother… The King arrives!... There are hundreds of them…" He protests, exited by the event.

"And in your best clothes... Look at yourself!..." She tells him off, rubbing off some dirt on his jacket. "Promise me you will stop climbing…"

"I never fall, mother… I'm very careful…"

"Bran?..."

"All right… I promise…" He looks down.

"You always do that… Looking at your feet before you tell a lie…" She gently smiles, making her son giggle. "Run and tell your father that the King is close... And then rejoin Ylliria... To have a last check on your clothes…" She yelled at her already running son.

.

"Arya!... You little dragon... Come back here... And put that helmet off your head!... This is ridiculous!..." Ylliria yells in the hallway, running after her.

"The King arrives!... The King arrives!..." Arya scurrying away.

"They are all going to turn me crazy!..." The young Lady stops in the middle of the stairs, knowing she won't be able to catch her. She goes back up to continue to take care of Sansa and Rickon.

.

Arya gets out of the Castle and climbs on a chariot to be above the lines of people already gathered along the road. She watches, her eyes wide open, the Royal vanguard passing with the banner-bearers leading the way. Followed by the King's Guards in their shinning golden armors; seven of the finest knights in the kingdom. Their Commander, Lord Jaime Lannister, the Queen's twin brother on their head. Then arrives Prince Joffrey, the King's elder son and his personnel attendant - A giant all dressed in black, with a helmet in a form of a roaring wolf. Finally, King Robert on his deep-dark destrier, riding next to the Queen's coach and her numerous domestics on foot.

.

The whole Stark family and their entire household are waiting in line in the courtyard. The family coming first and behind them by order of importance or rank. Ylliria is standing in the second row, between Jon and Maester Luwin.

"Where is Arya?..." Lady Stark suddenly says. "Ylliria, did you see Arya?" She quickly turns around to face her.

"Here she comes, My Lady..." The young woman points at the little running rabbit arriving in a rush, the iron helmet still on her head.

Lord Stark stops her by grabbing her arm. "What are you doing with that up?" He asks her, taking the helmet off, making all the others family members smile. "Go on... At your place..." He gently orders her. Ylliria accepts the helmet Lord Stark is handing her. There are all in place just in time for the entrance of the Royal court, followed by the King and the Queen's coach.

His Majesty Robert Baratheon arduously gets off from his mount, helped by his squire and approaches Lord Stark.

"Your Grace…" Eddard solemnly bends.

"Ah!... Ned… How many years since our last meeting?... Eight, nine years?..." The King makes a gesture with his hand giving Lord Stark permission to stand straight.

"At the last assault of the Iron-Isles Rebellion, I think…"

"Oh!... It's so good to see you!..." He hugs him before making a step aside to face Lady Stark. "Catelyn… Still as beautiful as ever…" He smiles, taking her in his arm too.

"Thank you, Your Grace…" She suddenly chokes from the King's tightened embrace.

"Ouh!... And this must be Robb!..." The King giving him a firm handshake. "Sansa… By all the Gods, you've become a real beauty…" He smiles at her.

"Your Grace…" She blushes, deepening her curtsey.

"And what is your name again?"

"Arya…" She firmly allege.

"Said like that, for sure I won't forget it anymore!..." He laughs. "And you are?..."

"Bran, Your Grace…"

"Bran... Show me your muscles…" The King gently squeezes the young boy' arm. "Oh, oh, oh… You'll be a real soldier!..." He lets out another throaty laugh. "Another one?... Damn, Ned… No more inactive duty for you!... By the Gods name!..." He barks to Eddard. "What's your name?... And how old are you?..." He asks the impressed little boy.

"Rickon… I'm six… Years old… Your Grace…" The youngest stutters.

.

The Queen finally deigns to come out of her coach and greets the Stark Family as well, only with less exuberance than her imposing husband. When the formal ceremonial of deference has been fully respected, the King takes Ned by the shoulder and leads him away from the crowd for a private talk. The Stark's household is relieved and send back to their designed occupations.

"The King did not say a word to you?... And yet, you are a Lady from a ancient family?..." Jon whispers to Ylliria.

"A Lady that has lost her land and Castle..." She sadly answers. "I don't mind... I'm not really good with protocol anyway..."

"Is that why you like Arya so much?..." Jon jokes.

"And Bran and Rickon too..." She strongly replies.

"Oh… And not Sansa?... Or Robb?" He continues to tease her.

"I am only responsible for the little ones..." She strongly replies.

"Oh! Ylliria... It's so easy to flout at your expense... I am really unfair with you..." He starts to laugh. "My deepest apologies..." He says with an exaggerated bow.

"YOU!..." She mouth in a fake angry tone before turning on her heels and walking away.

When she is out of sight, she starts to giggle.

.


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't know if I will be able to continue to write a chapter a day, but I'll do my best.**

**Take care... And Carpe Diem! ;-)**

Chapter 3: Feasting at the Castle

The Starks have forecasted at sundown a huge feast in honor of the King's visit in Winterfell.

Ylliria is giving the final touches on Sansa's hairdo. The elder Stark's daughter already imagining herself as a Princess, since she heard that the King wants to marry her to Prince Joffrey.

"And father will be the Hand of the King too… That will make him the second most powerful men in the Seven Kingdoms…" She brags.

"The Kind is very generous... It's a great honor for your family, Sansa…"

"And Joffrey is so handsome... Don't you think?..." Sansa fidgets on her seat.

"Yes, he has a good figure... I must say..."

"Oh, Ylliria... Did you already felt in love?..."

"Ahum..." She starts a bit embarrassed by the question. "I don't think so... No..."

"Do you think my father will also find you a good husband in the King's court?"

"He did not mention anything like it... And I would rather stay here... I do not know a soul in the Capital, Sansa..."

"You would know me... And father... And Arya... And you will make friends too... Oh please, come with us?..."

"I'm posted to your mother's household... She decides if I should go or not..." Ylliria explains.

"Don't you want to be married one day?... Having your own children?... You are of age now..." Sansa insists.

"Your family and your people are all very kind to me... I like my living here..."

"Do you still have thoughts about your family?"

"I pray the Gods every night before going to bed to keep them all in safety in their Holy Heavens..."

"It is so sad..." The young lady says with an indifferent tone, gazing at her reflection in the mirror. "This is perfect!... Thank you, Ylliria..."

"You are very welcome, My Lady..." She lightly smiles, happy to get rid of this conversation.

.

It is still early in the evening, but the feast is in full swing and the King's already completely drunk. He is chatting up with one of the maids. From her seat at the head table, the Queen watches the scene without a murmur. She lurks around, distractedly. When all of a sudden, her gaze notices Ylliria laughing and talking with Robb, sitting next to each other at a table on her left.

"Who is that auburn young woman with your son?..." She asks Catelyn Stark.

"Oh, that is Lady Ylliria Bennett from house Garrymount…"

"She is the late Lord Bennett's daughter?"

"Yes… The sole survivor from the massacre… Harry was a good friend of Ned's… She was so young when that terrible thing happened… And she had no other family, so we took her in…"

"She is a real beauty… Is she already promised to your son?" The Queen screwing up her eyes to have a better look.

"No… Well, they are getting along fine, as you can see… But, they never… We never saw any…" Lady Stark answers a little bit embarrassed.

"She seems to be of age!..." The King's wife points out.

"Yes, Your Grace… But, we are not forcing our children to do anything against their will…"

"I never thought of your family as to be so unconventional…" She softly laughs.

.

Outside, Jon is practicing with his sword, swinging it against a man-height's puppet made of a hessian bag filled in with straw and pinned on a wooden cross. He gives his blows as hard as he can.

Benjen, Eddard's brother, arrives. He dismounts his horse and hugs the young man.

"Why you're not part of the feast?" His uncle asks.

"Lady Stark deems inappropriate to have a bastard sitting near a King..." Jon answers, lowering his gaze on the ground.

"Well, you are always welcome at the Wall..."

"And I am ready for it!... Take me with you when you ride back..."

"Jon, I was just kidding..."

"Uncle Benjen, father will let me if you ask him... I know he will..."

"The wall isn't going anywhere..."

"I'm ready to swear the oath... And that is what I want..."

"You don't know what you will have to give up for it... We have no family... None of us will ever have a son..."

"I don't care about that..."

"Because you ignore what it means... You don't know what love is..."

"Please, uncle Benjen..."

The man in black finally nods. "We talk later... For now, I have another assignment... Rescue your father from his guests..." He laughs.

.

Hidden behind a wall, Ylliria overheard the whole discussion between the two men. When Benjen walks inside the Castle, she approaches Jon. "I thought you might feel like desert?... I brought you a slice of pie... It's delicious..." She gently says, handing him a wooden plate and a spoon.

"Thank you, Ylliria... How are things going inside?"

"Bah!... You know... The usual... Drunk, loud, stinking, screaming men... Their greasy wandering hands squeezing your butt when you passing them by, that you are a Lady or a maid..."

"That awful, huh?..." He smiles, taking a bit from the pie.

"So, you want to be a Ranger of the Night's watch, huh?"

"You heard..."

She nods.

"What else could I become?... I'm the bastard..."

"Stop using that word!..." She voices.

"Why?... It is what I am... Even if I don't like it... Or you don't like it..."

"I prefer using the words 'Side Souls'..."

"Full of poetry... But a petty statement, don't you think?..." A man's voice comes from the other side of the shed.

They both turn around, a dwarf comes out from the half-light.

"You are Tyrion Lannister... The Queen's brother..." Jon states.

"My greatest accomplishment... And you are Ned Stark's bastard..."

"Don't call him that!..." Ylliria takes offense.

"I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings... My Lady Bennett..." The little man grins, doing a light bow.

"You know my name?..."

"I can recite you all the family members of all the Houses of the Seven Kingdoms over five generations..."

"Impressive!... And even if I see some usefulness of such knowledge for the living ones... I do not understand why you still needs to know the names and ranks of the dead ones?..." She mocks him a bit, making Jon giggle.

"King's Landing is such a lonely Castle and the people who live there so boring... I have all the time in the world to knock me down by knowledge..." He snaps back. "Hum, she has temper… I already like her..." He winks to Jon.

"I have to go back inside... We talk tomorrow, Jon..." She smiles at the young man. "My Lord..." She excessively curtseys towards Tyrion.

.

Back at the feast, Ylliria sits back next to Robb. The annoyed look she wears over her face didn't escape to the young man's attention. "What's the matter, Ylliria?" He gently asks.

"I just got the tremendous honor to met Lord Tyrion Lannister..." She explains in a bombastic way, still irritated.

"What in the name of the Gods did that petty-minded dwarf said to you to erase that radius smile I had such a hard time to put on your face tonight?"

"It's not exactly what he said... It's the way and the tone he used to say it... He is just a pompous awful little man!..."

"I see you already made a good friend among our guests!... Congratulations, my dear!" Robb laughs.

She looks dagger at him. But when she sees his sparkling green eyes and his beautiful smile, she knows he is not mocking her. So, she also dares talking about Jon's next project. "And I heard Jon talking to your uncle Benjen… He wants to rejoin the Night's Watch…"

"Really?... You know, our ancestors have been guarding that Wall for centuries… It's an honor for our family that one of each generation takes the black…"

"I'm afraid that is not the main reason why he wants to go…"

"And what would it be then?..."

"He thinks it's his only purpose on this earth… Because he is a... Not a real Stark son…"

"Ylliria…" He gently takes her hand. "Jon is talking about that Wall since he is a kid… It's his dream to become a Ranger… Uncle Benjen is like the ultimate hero to him... Why does it affect you so much?..."

"It's not only that…" She says quickly. "It's… We were a family… All together happy… And all of a sudden, Lord Stark is going to be Hand of the King and leaving for the Capital… Taking Arya with him… Sansa is going to marry Prince Joffrey… And now Jon is also leaving… I have a hard time seeing people leaving, because I always think I will never see them again..."

"Like your family... Hum… I understand... But, don't you worry... None of them will die, I promise you that..." Robb gently petting her hand.

.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: A troublemaker called Feelings

Later that evening, at the other end of the table, Arya is messing around, throwing food with her spoon to everybody. One of her projectile lands on Sansa's right cheek. "Arya!... It's not funny!..." She yelled at her younger sister.

Lady Stark makes a slight movement with her head towards Ylliria, silently ordering her to put her younger daughter to bed.

Seeing her rising from the bench, Robb looks up to his mother.

"Keep my seat warm... I'll be back in a minute..." She says to him.

"Little dragon... It's time for bed... You come with me now... And no mumbling and no complaining... I am not in the mood for it tonight!..." Ylliria severely tells Arya, grabbing the spoon from her hand and by an elbow to raise her from the bench.

"What it so special about tonight?" The young girl mischievously asks.

"Forward march!... This way..." Ylliria points to the hallway.

"But, it's not that late yet... I promise I will behave…" She tries to soften her.

"Up you go and right now!... Don't make me give you an ear full in front of everybody, Arya..."

"Some help, maybe..." Robb arriving near them.

"I wouldn't say no to that..." Ylliria sighs.

The young man grabs her little sister and carries her over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes.

"Robb... Put me down!... Put me down!..." Arya protests, swinging with her legs.

"I'll put you down in your bed, little monster..." He gently answers, smiling at Ylliria.

.

Arriving at Arya's bedroom, Ylliria opens the door and softly pushes her in it. "You put on your nightgown... We'll stay here till you finished undressing... And then, we'll tug you in..."

"And no dirty tricks... I'll count to fifty... After that, I'll undress you myself..." Robb adds.

"You wouldn't dare!..."

"One... Two... Three..." Robb starts to count, making Arya rush into her room.

Ylliria and Robb stay silent for a moment, not really knowing what to say.

"Do you have..." Ylliria starts. "Do you want..." Robb at the same time.

"Sorry... What were you saying..." He continues.

"I was wondering if you had other of those jokes from the blacksmith... There are really funny... Maybe the way you tell them... I don't know..." She smiles.

"I don't hear you counting!..." Arya yells from inside the room.

"Thirty seven... Thirty eight..."

"Not so fast!... I have trouble with one of the knots of my dress..."

"You want some help with that?" Ylliria asks, bending to have a peek through slit.

"Maybe it will be better to wait till we are downstairs again... She has fine ears..." He whispers, pointing at the door, making Ylliria softly giggle.

"I'm in bed!..." The young girl screams.

"Fifty!... Just in time!..." Robb enters the room, followed by the young Lady.

They each sit at one side of Arya's bed. Ylliria pulls up the wolf-skin used as blanket over her shoulder.

"So, do you solemnly swear you will stay in bed and not trying to come down to lurk?..." Robb asks her little sister.

"I promise..." She smiles.

"Okay, that's the way I like my favorite little monster..." He kisses her on the forehead.

"Good night, sweetheart..." Ylliria says, doing the same.

She softly closes the door. "And now, back to the party!..." Robb takes her hand and carries her in a crazy race to the main room

"Robb… You gonna make me fall!.." She laughs, trying to hold on tight during their descent in the stairway.

.

Late that night, Ylliria has trouble to find sleep. She lays in her bed, her eyes staring at the ceiling, asking herself why she feels so upset about Jon's departure for the Wall. She seems to be more affected by that than Lord Stark and his two daughters going to the Capital. "Could it be that I care for him?..." She whispers. "Of course I care for him... We know each other since we were kids... We were practically raised together..." She alleges. "And I also care for Bran, for Arya... For everybody in this family... So, why does it make me feel so different?..." She screws up her eyes, looking for an rational explanation. "Oh, no... No... No... No, that can't be it..." She suddenly softly laughs of the foolish idea that just passed through her mind. "How can I think something like that... I know nothing about love... How?... No, no, no..." She shakes her head. "But, I how can I know for sure... To whom could I talk about that and ask questions?... Not to the Lady Stark… She hates Jon… And... She my Lady... I can't... No... What would she think about me..." She continues to search a solution. "Oh by all the Gods, it is certainly Sansa and her 'you are of age for marriage' that must have put such silly ideas in my head…" She gets irritated. "Oh, wait... I know to whom I can talk about this in all discretion… Belinda, my best friend the kitchen-maid. She is engaged to the miller's son and will soon be married… She must know things about it… I will talk to her tomorrow morning…" She flips side in her bed, finally closing her eyes.

.

After her late morning breakfast, she goes for the kitchen. She looks around to be sure Belinda is alone.

"Good morning, My Lady…" The kitchen-maid makes a quick curtsey.

"Good morning, Belinda…"

"Could I be at any service to you, My Lady?…" She politely asks, noticing her discomfort.

"Oh, no… I'm fine… I was just passing by… Maester Luwin gives Bran and Rickon their lessons… Sansa and Arya are busy with their embroidery… I'm not in the mood for a walk… So, I…" Ylliria trying to find a good way to lead to the conversation she wants to start. She looks at Belinda that is patiently waiting for any of her command. "Belinda… I know I can trust you… We know each other for a long time… I consider you as my friend..." She sits down in front of the tick wooden table. "Could you spare me a moment of your time?... I need to ask you about something… In all discretion…" She makes a gesture of her hand to ask the kitchen-maid to sit down next to her.

"Of course, My Lady… You know you may ask me anything… I know most of everybody's secrets around this house…" She says in a conspiracy tone.

"It's not really about somebody else's secrets… It's more about questions I ask myself… And where I cannot find answers to without some help…" She sighs. "And since you will be nearly married and that I know you won't tell this any further, I thought you might be the one…" She explains with an embarrassed smile.

"Oh… I start to see the sun coming out of the clouds…" She gently joshes. "You have questions about boys…"

"Not really about them… But… Oh dear, I never thought it would be so hard to say it out loud…" Ylliria takes a deep breath. "All right… Hum… When you are feeling upset about something a certain someone told you about… When there no real reason to be all upset about, because it seems to be good news for that person… And that since you know that thing about that certain someone, you can't stop thinking about him… And you feel sad about it too… And you want to tell him how upset you are, but you don't know how… I am not making any sense, does I?..." She sighs.

"Hum... Let me summarize all this for you... A boy innocently tells a girl something about himself, to share good news... The girl instead of being happy for him feels upset and sad... I deduce that the boy and the girl know each other for a long time and that the news only involves him and not her..."

"That's it exactly!..." Ylliria joyfully says.

"Pardon, My Lady... But, I do not understand what you expect from me?..."

"Well, should the girl tell the boy about the fact she feels upset and sad?... Taking the risk to alter their friendly relationship..."

"But, if the boy and the girl are friends... I do not see why they could not talk about it together..." Belinda puts a hand over hers. "My Lady... Do you allow me to ask from whom we are talking about?..." She dares.

Ylliria lowers her gave, slightly blushing. "I thought we were just friends... But, things seemed to have suddenly changed... I mean, when he told me he would... It was like my heart suddenly aches... Oh dear… The more I think about it the more confusing it becomes... I never thought about him that way… Ever… But now that I know he is leaving Winterfell… It's like I feel mad and sad at the same time…" She softly sobs.

"Oh… Now I understand... You're talking about Jon Snow isn't it?…" Belinda softly smiles.

"How did you know?..."

"Well, it's certainly not Lord Stark…" She gently laughs. "Nor one of those Lannisters either… So, the only other person leaving is Jon…" She sighs. "You know that taking the black means swearing to stay celibate till you die…" She explains.

"You mean, I will never see him again?..."

"I'm afraid so… Or maybe he could visit sometimes, like the Lord's younger brother… But, I'm not sure if a cadet would… So, it's going to be a very long time before he's coming back around… My Lady, are you crying?" She leans towards her when she sees tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Lord Stark is right… Winter is coming…" She wipes them away with her sleeve.

"What are you going to do?..."

"Nothing… He does not know anything about how I feel… And he wants to take the black… So, end of story…" Ylliria harshly says.

"But, My Lady… He deserves to know… You have to tell him how you feel before he is taking the oath…"

"And if he does not feel what I feel… What then?... I don't want to be Winterfell's laughing stock…" Ylliria stands up and leave the kitchen.

.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: An accident in Winterfell

Lady Stark receives a letter from her sister, Jon Arryn's widow. She reads it and suddenly throws it in the fire.

"What are you doing?... What does it tell?..." Lord Stark asks, worried by her radical action.

"She says her husband was murdered... By the Lannisters... She says also that the King, himself, is in danger..."

"Cat, she is a fresh widow... Maybe she exaggerates..."

"I know my sister... She wouldn't have taken the risk to write this kind of letter, if she was not certain of her facts... Could you imagine if this message had felt into the wrong hands?..."

Eddard stays thoughtful for a moment.

"I don't want you to go to the Capital knowing all this now..." Lady Stark continues. "If they murdered the previous Hand... How long will it be before they do the same to you..."

"The King is my friend... He traveled a month to ask me personally... I can't let him down... Certainly not now that he could be in danger..." Lord Stark concludes.

.

The next day, the King wants to hunt some wild boars in the surrounding woods. All the men of age from the Royal suite and from the Winterfell's House are invited. Bran looks at the preparations; a bit disappointed he could not accompany them.

In order to watch them on their way as far as possible, he climbs the South's tower. Summer, his Direwolf waits for him, circling around the pillar. Arrived at three-quarter heights, the boy must unfortunately go through one of the embrasures to pass on the other side of the tower. He hears some strange noises coming from the room he has to enter. He takes a peek inside, hanging on one of the thick branches of climbing Ivy and sees the Queen and Lord Jaime Lannister, her own twin brother, engaged in sexual intercourse. He wants to back off, but the Lord spots him and drags the young boy on the edge of the opening. "Are you completely mad?..." He says.

"He saw us!..." The Queen panics.

"It's all right... It's all right..." He tries to calm down Bran, trying to escape his grip. "How old are you, boy?"

"Ten..." Bran whispers.

"What are we going to do now?..." Cercei asks her brother.

"Nothing... There is nothing to be done..." Lord Lannister let him loose and does as if he backs off from him. He looks at his sister, grinning. "Ah!... The things I do for love!..." He sighs, suddenly pushing Bran out of the window. The boy falls all the way down the tower, landing heavily to the hard ground.

Cercei and Jaime hurry to get dressed again and leave the tower. "I'm going to rejoin the hunt... And you go for a nap... Nobody will notice anything..." He gently strokes his sister's long blond hair.

"Are you sure?..."

"Trust me... Who would suspect the Queen or a Lannister Lord having anything to do with this unfortunate accident?..." He smirks, leaving her in a discreet corner of the Castle and going for the stables.

.

Summer, Bran's Direwolf, gently pushes several times his master head, trying to wake him up. As the boy doesn't move, it runs to the courtyard, starting to loudly growl and to moan. One of the guards, intrigued by the animal's behavior, slowly approaches. "What's the matter with you?..." He says. Summer makes as if it runs to the tower, but stopped mid-way, turning his head towards the guard to unsure he follows him. Since the man stands still, the wolf comes back and gently bites on his cloak, pulling at it. "You want to show me something?... All right…" The guard finally following the animal.

Arrived near the tower, he sees Bran laying down on the ground. He rushes to him before going back to the Castle to raise the alarm. Four men, fitted with a long wooden plank by way of a stretcher, are carrying Bran inside the Castle.

"What happened?..." Lady Stark worriedly asks.

"A guard found him at the foot of the South tower, My Lady… He must have fallen…" One of the man sadly answers.

"Fetch Maester Luwin… Quickly!..." Ylliria orders him.

"Bran?... Bran?... Wake up now, my boy!..." Lady Stark gently stroking her son's forehead.

Maester Luwin rushes in the main room and directly starts to examine him. "I don't see any open wounds, no blood…"

"He's alive, isn't he?..." His mother questions in a worried tone.

"Yes… Hum…" He suddenly mumbles. "He probably has some broken ribs… And I suspect also his back must have been hit… But, I can't be sure of anything as long as he stays unconscious… Let us put him in his bed and pray the Gods he ever wakes up…" He gently explains to Lady Stark, completely distraught at the news.

Ylliria takes her Lady by the shoulder and they silently follow the men carrying Bran to his bedroom.

Pretty soon, the whole family is surrounding the boy's bed, praying their Old Gods.

.

Despite the tragedy that happened already a few days ago, Jon prepares his bag with his few belongings for his imminent departure to the Great White Wall.

He goes to the builders' place to see Will, one of Winterfell's masons he's befriended with since they were kids. He already paid him a visit a few days ago to order him something special. Will takes him aside and discreetly hands him a quarter of a foot square object wrapped in a black velvet piece of fabric. "I did what I could with the short time you gave me... It was not easy… The Lady never stands still and I could not decently climb the wall to lurk through her window, isn't it?..." He lets out a raucous laugh.

"No, of course not... She does not suspect anything, right?"

"Nope… I can be discreet when needed…" The mason winks.

Jon delicately unfolds the fabric and admires the portrait he asked him to draw. "Will… It's perfect... Really... Thank you..."

"You're welcome, my friend... But, tell me something... Why did you ask me to make this?... You're going to the Night's Watch... And you know..." Will leaving his sentence in abeyance.

"It's a little complicated..." The young man softly laughs. "We know each other since we were kids... And she was the only person that never called me 'bastard' or never treat me like one... I know it's not common to have a woman for a friend..."

"So, you mean, you never?..."

"No!... By the Seven Gods!..." He protests. "Ylliria's like a sister to me..."

"Hey... Didn't mean to offend you, Jon... I'm sorry..." The mason gently smiles.

"I know you didn't... In truth, she's more than a sister to me..." He lets out a sad sigh.

"So, when are you leaving?..."

"Tomorrow or the day after… Depends on the King, I suppose..."

"This is a farewell then..." Will grabs him in his arm for a very masculine accolade. "Take care of yourself, Jon Snow..."

"Take care of yourself too, Will…" He pats his muscular shoulders.

His next stop is for the Castle forge, where he waits for the blacksmith to finish the miniature sword he ordered. In the meantime, Jon checks the dagger that the craftsman has already finished. "Fine work, Mikken..." He says, putting it back in his sheath.

"Hum..." The rough man just mumbles, handing him the polished sword.

"Thank you..." He rolls the two objects in an old blanket and leaves five Golden Dragons on the workbench.

.

The morning before their departure from Winterfell, the Lannisters are taking their breakfast among themselves.

"Do you know what Maester Luwin said to me?... That the boy may live... The Gods were merciful..." Tyrion sneers, staring at his sister to observe her reaction.

"What is good in staying alive as a cripple?... Give me a clean and sudden death..." Jaime comments.

"I won't finally go back to King's Landing with you... I'd like to see the Great White Wall..." The dwarf continues.

"Why are you going there?" Cercei coldly asks him.

"I just want to stand on top of the Wall and piss of the edge of the world!..." He laughs, making the Queen's two younger child's giggle with him.

"My children don't need to hear your filth..." She suddenly stands up and with a silent order of her eyes, she asks her son and daughter to follow her.

.

Catelyn, reclusive in her son's bedroom since the accident, is disconsolate. She watches over Bran day and night, drowsing on the hard wooden chair that she barely leaves.

"Are you not coming down?... The children would like to have their mother for supper…" Lord Stark gently says.

"No… I'm staying here… Bran needs me…" She answers her eyes full of tears.

"Catelyn… It is nearly a week… There is nothing more you can do for him right now… We could ask old Nan to watch over him for a couple of hours…"

"Ned, please… Leave me alone…" She says, tighten up for the hundredth time the blankets of her son's bed.

Eddard doesn't insist and closes the door again.

.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: The grand departure.

Arya is busy to pack her trunks, helped by her Direwolf Nymeria. Jon enters her room. "So, you're nearly done packing, huh?... No wonder you did that in no time with your new maid..." He smiles, looking at the animal.

"Watch..." She proudly asks. "Nymeria, gloves..." She orders her wolf, but it doesn't move an inch.

"Impressive!..." Jon gently mocks her.

"Shut up!... Nymeria, my gloves..." She repeats. The wolf tilts his head on the side, looking at her in incomprehension.

"I have something for you..." He finally says.

"You have a present for me?"

"Yes, but you'll have to pack it real carefully..." He puts down the blanket on the bed, unfolding it and showing her the little sword. "Arya, this is no toy..." He slides it slowly out of its sheath. She wants to take it. "Easy, don't cut yourself..."

"It's so skinny..." She admires it.

"The blacksmith made it especially for you... You will have to train to know how to use it properly..."

"I'm going to miss you..." She sadly says, lowering her gaze.

"And I'm going to miss you too, little monster..." He softly smiles. She wants to hug him, but she still has the sword in her hands. "Careful!..." Jon warns her. She delicately puts it down on her bed again and jumps in his arms. "All the best swords have names you know..." He explains her, still holding her tight.

"Needle... Yes, I'm going to call her needle..." She answers after a moment of reflection.

"It's a good name..." He whispers.

.

He goes to Ylliria's room next to give her the dagger he made do for her. He softly knocks on her door.

"Come in…" She answers, standing up from her seat and putting down her book on the little table. "Jon…" She whispers.

"I come to say good-bye…" He shows her the still folded object. "And to bring you this…" He puts it down on her bed.

"What is this?..." She gently smiles, not daring touching it.

"Open up… It won't bite you, I swear…"

She delicately unfolds the blanket and discovers the dagger. She lets out a small cry of surprise.

"Look, I ask the blacksmith to engrave in copper wires your initials on the handle…" He points at it, coming near her.

"It's really beautiful… Thank you, Jon… But, what did I do to earn this?..." She says, trying to hide the best she can her turmoil from their two bodies so close to each other and his regular breathing in her neck.

"Nothing special... You were just… Yourself… I wanted you to have a souvenir of me… So, you know I will never forget about you… And you could remember me with it… I also would like to ask you a favor... Could you take care of Ghost…" He slightly steps aside.

"You're not taking him with you?... But, you will need him… He can protect you… I heard so much stories about the Great White Wall…"

"Don't tell me you believe all those tales about monsters behind the Wall?..." Jon gently mocks her.

"You've raised Ghost... He's yours... And you know that a wolf has only one master... Jon, may I ask you a question?..."

The young man nods.

"Why exactly do you want to take the black?... Is it your father that pushes you to do so?"

"No, I always wanted to become a sworn brother of the Night's Watch... That's why I trained so hard all these years…" He smiles.

"I don't want you to leave..." She says unawares.

"Ylliria…" He sighs.

"I know… It's a selfish though… I'm sorry…" The young woman turns her back on him.

He slowly takes her by the sleeve to face her again. "You will stay in my heart forever, Ylliria… And once I will be an experienced ranger, I may come back and visit… You can also send ravens to Castle Black... I promise, I'll write too…"

Their eyes lock for a moment and suddenly she approaches him and stealthily kisses him on the lips. He backs off, pushing her away gently.

"I shouldn't have done that..." She apologizes, not wanting to look at him anymore.

"Ylliria... I... I'm sorry..." He whispers. "Take care of yourself..." He says before closing the door.

She lets herself fall on her bed, hiding her head in her pillow to silence her wails, tears running down.

.

The next morning, at the stable, Jon grabs his saddle, unties the rains of his horse and drags him outside.

He finishes harnessing it when Robb approaches. "Did you already say goodbye to everyone?"

"Yeah..." He lowers his head.

"So, next time I'll see you, you will be all in black..."

"It was always my favorite color anyway..." Jon smiles. "Robb?..."

"What?..."

"All these sudden departures… There really are affecting Ylliria and…"

"I know… Don't worry; I'll cheer her up… She won't even notice you're gone…"

Jon lets out a soft laugh.

"Well, farewell Snow..."

"And you Stark..." They fall in each other arms.

.

When Robb leaves, Jon mounts his horse and starts to follow the long column that already follows the main track. Arrived at the first marker stone, the Royal suite makes a left turn while Jon, his uncle Benjen, Tyrion and two personal Guards from the Lannister's home makes it to the right.

Jon stops to have a last look at the castle in the distance, his other travel companions continuing their road. He has a moment of hesitation, looking at his father moving away to King's Landing; at the Winterfell's Castle and finally at the now empty road ahead of him. He gently pulls the rains to order his mount to break into a trot. Down the hill, he sees the shadow of another cavalier on the side the path, waiting. Approaching, he recognizes Ylliria's horse, with his beautiful auburn robe, matching her hair. She gets down, knotting the rains from her animal at one of the branches of the only tree around.

"You should not ridding alone like this so far away from the Castle..." Jon gently reprimands her, dismounting too.

"It's not that far... They won't even notice I left..." She shyly smiles. "I needed to... I don't want you to leave with a bad opinion of me..."

"I don't have a bad opinion of you, Ylliria... What makes you think that?..."

"Because of what I did when you gave me this..." She strokes over the dagger hanging on her belt, above her gown.

"I just don't want you to live on falls hopes… I made my decision; I'm taking the black… In other circumstances, in another life, that would have been... Probably different… But, we are what we are… You are a Lady and I am a bastard… Do you understand?..."

"I'm no Lady… I'm just an orphan…"

"Ylliria… You are from noble blood… I'm sure someday you will fall in love with a nice Lord, with a nice Castle and you will have your own children… I know that my father will never force you to marry someone you didn't choose yourself… You know that too…"

She looks away.

"I have to go now… And you, you go back to the Castle before Lady Stark raises the alert… Ylliria, look at me…"

She slowly turns her head. He approaches her and takes her in his arms, holding her tight.

"You take care of yourself, Jon Snow... No heroic acts or mad adventures on your own, all right?..." She whispers.

"I promise… I'll behave…" He softly laughs. "And you promise me to live your life… No matter what… You do like you always did… Strong and determine young Lady that you are…" He lengthily kisses her forehead.

"Off with you!... Before I change my mind and tie you on this tree…" She tries to smile, pushing him gently away.

"Aye… I would like to see that…"

"Don't tempt me, Snow!..."

"Ouh!... I run away then…" He gets back on his horse.

Before heading back to the Castle, she watches Jon till he disappears behind the hill.

.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: The assassin.

The group heading for the White Wall makes a halt for the night in a dark forest, near a river. Two more 'candidates' for the Watch have joined them. Curiously their hands are tight. Benjen pushes them to sit around the fire. "You'll be fed..." He harshly tells them.

Jon, warming up near the campfire, looks at the scene from a corner of his eye.

"Ahhh... Rappers..." Tyrion Lannister, sitting nearby, smiles. "They were given a choice... Castration or the Wall... Usually, they choose the knife..." Seeing no reaction from the young man, the dwarf continues. "Not impressed by your new brothers, Snow?... A lovely thing about the Guard, you renounce to your own family to get a brand new one..." He goes back to his reading.

"Why do you read so much?" Jon finally talks.

"Look at me and tell me what you see... I am a dwarf... So much for me being a soldier... So, what could I do for my so Royal family?... Well, my brother has the sword... And I have my mind... And mind needs books like a sword need a wet-stone... That's why I read so much, Jon Snow... But, tell me something... If you have so much doubts in your head and in your heart, why do you join the Night's watch?..."

"Doubts?... I have no doubts!..." Jon shrugs.

"Huh, huh... So, why are you looking at that portrait so often?..."

"What portrait?" The young man's feigning ignorance.

"The little wooden square you're hiding in your doublet…" Tyrion gently smiles.

"I always wanted to be Ranger… As far as I remember… I trained hard of it, so I will be one!..."

"Because your nanny nourished you with wonderful tales of the Great White Wall… Things are rarely what we expect them to be… Remember this… Reality bites, my friend… Here, everything's better with some wine in the belly..." Tyrion throws him a goatskin.

.

Lady Stark is still recluse in Bran's room. Maester Luwin enters. "It's time we review the accounts, My Lady... You would be surprise how much this Royal visit has cost us..."

"Talk to Poole about it..." She sadly replies.

"Poole went south with Lord Stark, My Lady... We need a new steward... And there are several other appointments that require your attention..." He gently says.

"I don't care about appointments..." The Lady harshly answers her eyes full of tears.

"I'll make the appointments... We'll talk about first thing in the morning..." Robb intervenes, standing in the doorway.

"Very good, My Lord... My Lady..." Luwin bows and leaves.

Robb finally enters and opens the window, the wolves howling in a distance. "When was the last time you left this room?..."

"I have to take care of him..."

"There is also Ylliria for that..."

"No, it's my son..."

"He is not going to die, mother... Maester Luwin said that the most critical times have passed..."

"What if he's wrong?... Bran needs me..."

"And Rickon needs you too..."

"As you said... Ylliria is there..."

"He is only six... And he needs his mother..."

"Close that window!... I can stand it!... Please make them stop!..." She begs him, the wolves still howling.

Robb turns around and sees a glowing light at the other end of the castle. "Fire!..." He screams. "You stay here... I come back..." He rushes out of the room.

Catelyn goes at the window and sees the flames coming out of the stables.

When she faces the room again, a man in a black cloak stands right in front of her.

.  
Robb makes a quick halt in the second floor's hallway. "Ylliria!..." He calls.

"What is it?... What's happening?... I heard the bell..." She rushes out her room and rejoins him.

"A fire in the stables... Go to Bran's room and keep an eye on my mother... I'll be right back..." He gently pushes her to the stairs.

.

"You were not supposed to be here..." The strange says with a deep dark voice, slowly pulling out a dagger out of its stealth. He gradually marches towards Bran's bed, keeping an eye on Catelyn. She jumps between him and the bed, her arms raised in front of her, going for the man's weapon. He slaps her in the face, making her fall on the edge of the bed. He grabs her by the hair, lifting her up prepared to slit her throat. She covers the blade with both her hands, cutting deep in her fingers and palms. She pushes with one foot against the bed, trying to make the assailant losing his balance, but he could lean against a chest. The struggle continues, Lady Stark still fighting with all the strengths she has left. She could manage to give him a head right on his nose and bites his hand, making the man scream. He is obliged to push her away from him. She falls again along the bed. The attacker, rubbing his hand, tries to gain back some composure. When all of a sudden he feels a hand grabbing his sleeve and making him violently pivoted around. Ylliria directly stabs him in his throat with her own dagger. With her free hand, she pushes the blade inside to the hilt and finishes with a half-circle movement of her wrist; to be sure it cuts the jugular. The assailant stumbles for a short moment, blood pouring out his wound in waves. His eyes widen and he finally falls flat on the ground, the weapon still stuck in his neck.

Ylliria rushes near Catelyn. "Oh !... My Lady... Your hands..." She utters, concerned.

"Yes... Yes..." The Lady answers, going on her knees first and with help of her elbows, slowly stands up.

"Let me see this..." Ylliria says, looking at her bloody hands. She takes a handkerchief from her gown's inner pocket, tears it up in two and wraps Lady Stark's palms. "I'll fetch some healing salve... I'll be right back..."

"Ylliria!... No, please... Stay with me... This can wait..." She pleads, still panting.

"Don't you want me to call for Robb either?..."

"Not now... He will come..." She opens her arms to her. The young woman understands and grabs the Lady tight.

Staring at the dead man surrounded by a pool of blood over Catelyn's shoulder, Ylliria suddenly realizes what she just did.

.

The next day, from her window, Ylliria watches two guards roughly throwing the attacker's body into a cart and leaving for the woods with the order to burn and bury him.

A soft knock on her door, makes her jump a little. She turns around and sees Robb holding her dagger. "I just wanted to bring you this back... I cleaned it... Nice piece... Where did you get it?"

"Thank you, Robb... It's... It's an heritage..." She lies, looking at the blade. "I never thought I would use it one day... Or even capable of killing someone..." She sadly points out. "I suppose watching you practicing every day in the courtyard must have taught me something..." She tries to smile.

"You saved my mother and my brother... And you are unharmed… That's all that matters to me..." Robb draws her in his arms to comfort her.

"Everything happened so fast… I didn't even think… I just… Stabbed that man… I wasn't even afraid…"

"Ylliria… No one will ever blame you or punish you for what you did... He was the killer, not you…" He gently kisses her forehead.

.

Later in the afternoon, Lady Stark comes down in the main room. "Ylliria, my dear... Would you please watch Bran for me for a moment?... There is something I need to check outside..."

"Of course, My Lady..." The young woman puts down her quill and directly goes up the stairs.

Lady Stark looks at the papers on the table, admiring Ylliria's rounded and refined handwriting. She thought she was maybe drafting a letter to someone, but realizes she was busy to clean copy the different decisions taken during this morning's meeting. She tenderly smiles, happy that her elder children, the one she carried and the one she raised as her own daughter, are filling their duties quite seriously during her husband's absence.

.

Catelyn heads to the tower where the supposed accident happened. She looks up to visualize the height from where Bran tumbled. Then she goes all the way up and watches the surroundings from the window he felt from. She starts to look around the room for any clues that might let her guess what her poor son saw that day. Searching on the stoned floor, she discovers a portion where all the dust, dry leaves and branches are whipped clean. Between two slabs, she picks up a long blond hair.

.


	8. Chapter 8

**I just would like to thank you all for your kind messages of your support… I'd never imagined that this little story would please you. :-)**

**And I thought, silly me, that I was the only one craving for some romance in those trouble times we live in (LOL!).**

**I really take a lot of pleasure writing this and will do my best not to disappoint you.**

**Take care, you all…**

**.**

Chapter 8: Awakening.

Lady Stark convenes the only people she really trust in her house: Ylliria, Robb, Theon, Maester Luwin and Rodrik Cassel the Master-at-Arms. She wants to share her doubts and recent findings with them. To make sure no prying ears would pick up their conversation, she prefers having this gathering in the middle of the Gods' wood.

"What I'm about to tell you must remain between us..." She pauses a few seconds, looking at each one of them. "I don't think Bran fell from that tower... I think he was thrown..."

"The boy was always sure-footed before..." Maester Luwin points out to Rodrik.

"Someone already wanted to kill him twice now... Why murder an innocent child, unless he saw something he shouldn't have?..."

"Saw what, My Lady?" Theon asks.

"I don't know... But, I would stake my life the Lannister's are involved..."

"Do you have noticed the dagger the killer used?... A well too refined weapon for such a man... The blade is Valyrian steel... And the handle, dragon bone... Only a wealthy man can afford to buy such a fine item... Someone must have given it to him..." Rodrik Cassel explains his own investigation.

"They are coming to our home... And try to murder my little brother... If it's war they want?..." Robb angrily mutters.

"If it's come to that, you know I'll stand behind you..." Theon adds.

"Boys... Pace your hast to have a fight... We don't know the truth yet..." Maester Luwin tempers the two young men. "Lord Stark must be told of this..." He slightly turns to face Lady Stark.

"I don't trust a raven to carry these words..." She says.

"I'll ride to King's Landing..." Robb proposes.

"No!... There must always be a Stark in Winterfell... I will go myself..." His mother answers.

"My Lady, this is way too dangerous... These roads are nothing save for someone alone... Gods know if there are any other killers around..." Ylliria protests.

"She is right, mother... You can't go on your own..." Robb adds.

"I must!..." She stands.

"I'll send Hal with a squad of Guards to escort you, My Lady..." The Master-at-Arms suggests.

"That would attract too much attention... I don't want the Lannister's to know I'm coming..."

"Let me accompany you at least, My Lady..." Ylliria pleads.

"No, dear... I want you to take care of my boys during my absence..." She gently smiles.

"It is out of the question you are traveling alone, mother..." Robb insists, raising his voice.

"She won't... I'll go with her..." Rodrik says.

.

Before leaving Winterfell, Lady Stark goes a last time in Bran's room. She kisses her forehead and gives Ylliria her last recommendations. "I trust you, Ylliria... Take good care of my boys..."

"Don't you worry, My Lady... You travel in peace... Everything will be taking care off... I'm just worried about your safety... It is a dangerous travel you have decided to undertake… We have trustworthy and toughen soldiers... We could send one of them instead..."

"No!... This is way too important and sensitive matter... There is something you do not know yet... After the feast in honor of the King's visit, a night messenger arrived at the Castle... It was a message from my sister Lysa... Advising us that she feared her husband, the late Hand, was murdered… That she suspects it was the Lannisters' doing... And that is why she ran away from the Capital with her son..."

"I barely heard about those Lannisters for the last 16 years... And in just a month, they become our worst nightmare..." Ylliria angrily says.

"Come help me finish packing… I'm afraid I took too much things for such a short travel…" Catelyn kisses her forehead, taking her by the shoulder and go to her room.

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A few days after Lady Stark's departure, a heavy storm hits Winterfell, flashes of lightning streaking the dark afternoon sky with violent gusts of wind. Robb, Theon and Ylliria are giving orders to the household for them to their best to draughtproof the doors and windows of the Castle.

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Bran, still unconscious, is softly moaning, shaking his head from left to right like he has a nightmare.

Summer, the boy's Direwolf, suddenly starts to get agitated, pacing from Ylliria's legs to the stairs. "What is it, Summer?... You are worried for Bran?..." She asks the animal. It gently pushes his head against her legs. "All right… All right... I'm going…" She climbs up the stairs.

In front of Bran's bedroom door the wolf scratches and howls. "You want to enter?..." She slowly opens the door. The Direwolf immediately jumps on the bed, staring at the boy. At that moment, another flash of lightning strikes and Bran wakes up at once, sitting straight in his bed.

"I'm hungry..." He says in a husky voice.

"Oh, by all the Gods... Bran!..." Ylliria hurries on his side and takes him in her arms. "Guard!... Call for Lord Stark... Tell him his brother just woken up..." She orders the soldier mounting guard at the door.

"Yes, My Lady..." He rushes away.

"How do you feel?... Are you in pain somewhere?..." She touches and squeezes him everywhere.

"No... How long am I laying here?..."

"Weeks!... Maester Luwin said that you were out of danger... But, we were still so worried about you..." She hears someone running in the hallway and briskly stopping at the doorstep.

"Bran!..." Robb exclaims.

"I leave you with your brother... I'll get you something to eat... Any particular wishes?..." Ylliria gently smiles.

"I'd like some cheese and fresh bread..." The young boy says.

"You'll have it, even if I have to make it myself right now..." She joyfully says, quickly squeezing Robb's hand on her way out.

"How do you feel, brother?..." The young Lord asks, sitting next to him.

"I don't know... Fine, I guess…" Bran shrugs.

"Do you remember anything about what happened?... How did you fall from the tower?..."

"No, nothing... I remember seeing you leaving for the hunt with the King... And then nothing else..." He pushes the pelts aside, wanting to get out of his bed. "My legs?..." He suddenly burst out, noticing they are not moving with him.

"Bran... Your fall... It did some damages..." Robb gently explains, laying him back down.

"It is temporary, right?... I just need to heal..." The young boy questions, his eyes full of anxiety.

"I'm sorry, brother... You won't heal... You have lost usage of your legs..."

"I will never walk again?"

Robb shakes his head.

"Then, I'd rather be dead!..." Bran fiercely stands.

"Don't ever say that!..."

"I'd rather... be... dead!..." The boy insists, looking in his older brother's eyes.

At the door, carrying a plate, Ylliria heard what he just said and tears are slowly running down her cheeks.

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The Night's Watcher's group finally arrives at Castle Black near the White Wall. Benjen calls Jon "Welcome to your new home..." He says, patting his shoulder. "Impressive, huh?..." He laughs at the expression of his nephew's mug.

The impenetrable and mysterious iced fortification makes him shiver. "Why did the Gods build a thing like this?... What is so terrible on the other side that needs such a structure?..." He asks to himself before cautiously getting down the last hill and following the others on their way to the garrison barracks.

_._


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: A time for responsibility and a time for leisure. 

Little by little, Winterfell is getting back to a semblance of normal life, the whole household having received their new duties. Robb, acting now as the Lord of Winterfell, is leading the morning council, helped by Ylliria and Maester Luwin. They are patiently listening to the various complains and requests of their folks that are waiting in line behind the main door. Robb is taking the decisions and/or giving orders on this or that matter. Ylliria is in charge of writing down the requests and the decisions in the Stark House book. While Maester Luwin is responsible for the House craftsmen and peasants availabilities that he can distribute around (depending on the urgency of the case discussed).

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After the morning's council, Ylliria takes care of Rickon and Bran and also manages the Castle household.

Before starting her daily business, she quickly writes a small note to Jon. She realizes that since he left for the Wall, she didn't send him a single raven. In her room, she stays a few minutes, lost in her thought, not really knowing how to address the letter. "Dear Jon?... Nan, to formal." She whispers. "Hum... 'My dear Jon' or 'My dearest Jon'... Yes, better... My dearest Jon..." She starts to write. "I hope this message may find you well and happy. In a few days, we will celebrate Belinda and Ailwin's wedding. Everybody is in good health here. Does Ghost adapt to his new environment? We miss you all greatly. May the Seven Gods honor you of their protection. Lady Ylliria Bennett."

In the ravens' room on top of the East tower, she rereads a last time the small strip of paper before rolling it and inserting it in the little tube attached on the bird's foot. She gently grabs the animal. "Bring this message to Jon at Castle Black." She kisses his head before letting him fly away through the window.

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Once the raven out of her sight, she rushes down to her duties.

This afternoon, she has to make the cellar's inventory and writing a list of missing or nearly out items for Maester Luwin for him to do the re-supplying.

Busy to count the wine and vinegar barrels, she hears someone approaching. "Not too exhausted by all that overload of work?... I could maybe lighten up your duties..." Robb innocently comments, leaning on the wall.

"My Lord is too generous." She jests. "But, it's all right. I like having things to do. I am not one of those young Ladies idling through their lives, only preoccupied by their last fashionable gown or expensive jewel they purchased."

Robb bursts into laughter. "I swear, it never crossed my mind you could be one of those. You have proven me that a thousand times already. But, my dear Lady Bennett, there is a time for responsibilities and there is one for leisure." He takes her little book and her quill out of her hands, throws them on a barrel and takes her in his arms for some dance steps.

"Robb Stark, now its official... You are totally crazy!"

He stops spinning her around. "Those last weeks were not really joyful. But mind those circumstances, couldn't we sometimes, just for a little moment, enjoying ourselves? We are still young." He says with some sadness in his voice.

"You are starting to realize the weight of a Lord's responsibilities, huh?"

"Oh, yes... My father raised me to be the future Lord of Winterfell, he taught me everything. I was just not imagining acting up to it so soon. I thought I had still some years to just... You know, still being a carefree young man sometimes."

"Robb, you are really a good Lord. People love you. They all respect you and your decisions." She putts a hand on his forearm to comfort him.

"I realize that. But every morning, when I wake up, I feel the same anguish that I won't be able to be up to my father's expectations... That pressure is..."

"That pressure that pushes us to grow up faster that we should have." She sighs. "I also fear to do things wrong. Being to sloppy with the maids... Or too rigorous... Trying not to favor too much this one against the other."

"Let us hope that this situation won't last forever."

"Now, you are lost in a daydream, Robb! I doubt your father will come back to Winterfell that soon."

"Always there to give me the right kick in my butt, huh, Ylliria?" Robb softly laughs.

"Who else would dare giving it to you? But you know it's for your own good, do you?"

"I know. Don't worry. I'm getting even used to it with the years."

"Good! All right now. Enough of that self-pity... This evening, let's do something pleasant." She bends her head a little bit for him to look at her smile. "I'm waiting, My Lord... Any ideas?"

"Hum... A card game with Theon?"

"Oh, very brave of you. Since you know how good I am at this." She boasts a little.

"Hah… When you cheat!" He scoffs, making already some steps back.

"How dare you! I never cheat with cards… Don't need to." She answers, falsely offended.

"Will see that tonight then, My Lady." He overly bows.

"At your service, My Lord." She curtseys deeply, a smirk on her face.

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After having put Rickon to bed and left Bran under Old Nan's care, Ylliria enters in the main room. Robb is pouring wine into three metal goblets. While Theon is busy to shuffle the deck of cards, looking at her with a daring gaze, absolutely not feeling like letting her win tonight. She slowly sits down with an excessive movement, paying extra care not to crease her gown and elegantly puts on the table her little red velvet purse with just enough force to make the coins in it tinkle. "You can't fool me with your tricks anymore, Ylliria." Theon smirks.

"What tricks?" She innocently asks.

"No cat fight tonight, you two!" Robb putting the cups in front of each one of them. "All right now... You are all good for the game of Tarok? One thousand points winning, each Gold Dragon is worth two hundred fifty. Theon will be the first to deal. And for every fifty points, you get one of those." He sets the rules, showing them the little box of sticks. "The first who has 20 of them will receive four Gold Dragons each from the others." Ylliria and Theon nod. The squire starts to deal the first round of fifteen carts and puts the deck in the middle of them. Ylliria is the first to throw a card, face up, next to the deck. "Slow start, huh?" Robb smirks when he sees her 3 of spades.

"It only my first card." She simpers.

The young Lord covers it with a 7 of spades and Theon follows with a 2 of clubs.

"Don't you have any spades?" Robb asks.

"Man, I know the rules! So, if I put a 2 of clubs. It means I cannot follow in your color."

"All right already. No need to become so aggressive about it." The Lord grabs the trick and putting it on his side of the table.

"I'm not aggressive. It's just that I know the rules, I'm not stupid!" He raves, making the two others giggle.

"Oh, I got it! You think that by pushing me out of my limits, I will lose my temper and my playing strategy will suffer... Ha, ha, ha... Not this time." Theon softly laughs.

Robb put down an 8 of coins. "That is just a glimpse on what I will win tonight." He grins.

"In your dreams!" The squire throwing the Queen of the same suit over his.

Followed by Ylliria that with a large smile and an exaggerated slow move, puts down the King. "Thank you." She mouths, knowing that she made a lot of points with this trick.

The game continues till one of them falls out of cards. When that happens, they each count their amount of points from the pile of carts they grabbed during the game and taking a stick from the box each time they reach fifty points.

It's now Ylliria's turn to deal the fifteen carts to each player.

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The evening continues in a pleasant way, between jokes, digs and laughs. Maester Luwin has a peek in the room from the kitchen door and tenderly smiles at the three young people forgetting for a few hours about their duties.

Nearly at the end of the game, it's a close match between all of them. Robb misses only 27 points, Theon 31 and Ylliria, slightly lagging behind with 38. This last deal will be the decisive one. They're all looking suspiciously at each other, trying to read minds and guessing which cards the others still have. Theon throws his last card, a 10 of diamonds. Ylliria follows with a King of the same suit, biting on her nail waiting with anxiety that Robb shows his card. He stays stoical for a moment and finally slowly puts down a four of spades.

"YES!" She burst, throwing her arms up in victory.

"You could not follow? Couldn't you put a smaller card? Something?" Theon shouts out.

"I'm sorry, but look what I had left. It was the smaller card I had. And in any case she had over the 38 points she needed to win."

"You let her win!"

"Absolutely not! Come on, don't be a sore loser." Robb trying to appease his friend.

Theon throws his four Gold Dragons on the table and quickly leave the room.

"He is mad again, huh?" Ylliria says.

"Don't worry, you know him. It'll pass. He won't be able to see Ross for a couple of weeks, tho."

"Ross?"

"His regular whore." He whispers.

"Ouhw!... Poor Theon!" She replies with a little girl's voice, before both burst into laughter.

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	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Wedding in Winterfell (Part 1)

The whole Winterfell is in a frenetic mode. All joyfully preparing the wedding of Belinda, the kitchen maid and Ailwin, the miller's son's.

Robb kindly granted the use of the Castle's Grand Hall for the evening feast, since the weather looks rather threatening.

A group of maids are decorating the walls with flower garlands, tying colorful ribbons on the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and setting long white tablecloths before dressing the tables.

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Belinda is in Ylliria's bedroom. The Young Lady insisting to take care of her friend. She wants for her to be the most beautiful bride in the county.

"My Lady is way too kind with me. I feel like a spoiled child!" The kitchen-maid shyly says when Ylliria is fasting one of her own necklace around the maid's gorge.

"Belinda, I already heard you the ten previous times you said it! So please, just enjoy this as much as I am enjoying this. They say it is the most special day in a woman's life. And I'd like you to remember this one for as long as you live." She bends down, taking her hands in hers. "Belinda, you were always there for me, at any time. So, let me be there for you on this wonderful day of yours." Ylliria stands up, taking a brush and starting to untangle her long golden hair. After some different tries, she decides to leave it simple to let her natural beauty showing through. A braid on each side of her head, tying together behind with a fine white silk ribbon and her forehead surrounded with a flower crown, leaving just a curled lock hanging on each side of her face. "What do you think?..." She hands her the tin-plated mirror.

"It's lovely! I like it!... Thank you, My Lady." The maid looking herself from every corner. "May I ask what you are going to wear tonight? Do you wish me to help you with it?"

"Out of the question! Not that I don't trust you at it… But, like I said, it's your day!"

"I know. But, that would maybe help me to forget about... My fears."

"Your fears? Do you have doubts about this wedding? Did Ailwin harm you in any way?" The young Lady asks concerned, sliding a stool and sitting near Belinda.

"Oh, no, no, no! Ailwin is the most adorable person I know. He really loves me. And I love him, for sure... But, living as a couple is a huge change. Compare to a stolen kiss in a corner of the kitchen or having a walk in the woods on a Sunday, this will be a total new life for both of us. We will have a home together, children together... It's a decision for life and a whole new level of responsibilities." The maid explains.

"Oh yes, for sure... But, look at Lord and Lady Stark. They are married for what, nearly twenty years now? And they seems to still be very happy together. They have five children and..."

"Living as a noble is not the same as living as a peasant, a craftsmen or in a household, My Lady. Our wealth can, most of the time, holds in a single barrow. And we are totally depending on the Lord's kindliness... No Lord, no work... No work, no food on the table. And that is the part that scares me." Belinda gently explains. "When I was on my own, I didn't think of what could happen to me. Working in Winterfell or in any other Castle wouldn't have mattered to me. Only that I would have missed a lot of people if I had to leave from here." She smiles. "But, now, we are on the start of building a family. Meaning, settling down solid."

"Yes, but Ailwin has a craft and he is a hard worker. And you are a resourceful woman. I'm sure you will always find a way to..." Ylliria suddenly lets her head drop. "Ahhhrrr! I feel useless... Belinda, I am so sorry to be such a poor friend. I don't know what to advise you, because you're right, I am a Lady and never had to struggle for anything!"

"My Lady, don't say that. You are not useless. You are of a great help... I mean it... Your support gives me warms in my heart." She gently says, taking Ylliria's hand in hers. "But I am begging you. For the love of the Gods! Let me see the gown you will wear tonight!" She says in an exaggerated dramatic tone, making them both laugh to tears.

Ylliria, wiping them away, goes to her wooden trunk next to the bed and takes out a wine color velvet dress lined with a fine golden border. "Oh, My Lady, this gown is absolutely beautiful! And the color will match your hair perfectly. You will make some heads turn, tonight, My Lady." She giggles.

"You are sure it's not too much?" Ylliria suddenly worries.

"Definitively not!" Belinda firmly stands.

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In the far-end North, Jon takes the manually-hoist elevator to go on top of the Wall. He wants to see what's on the other side. Arriving at the edge, the wind blows sharp, making him turn up the fur collar of his cloak. "Everybody knew what this place really was and no one told me. Uncle Benjen tried to warned me, but I didn't listen. My father knew, but he let me to rot at the Wall all the same. And even Ylliria wanted to talk me out of it... What an idiot I am!" He mumbles, staring at the horizon.

"Would you have ever imagine this?" Benjen says, coming back from his watch.

"No, not at all." Jon sadly comes.

"Why the sullen face, Son?"

"I was thinking that maybe... No, never mind."

"Come on. You can tell me." He encourages him by putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"I'm a better fighter than any of my companions. I trained years for this. I don't understand why can't I swear the oath already?"

"Jon, one of the Laws of the Wall says: 'A man gets what he earns, when he earns it'. If you want to be treated with respect by your companions, don't treat them like they are good for nothing. They never had a Master-at-arms that trained them, like you had. They are peasants, vagabonds or outlaws that never held a sword in their lives. Don't show them what you can do, show them how to be more like you. And once you'll gain their trust, you might be ready to lead those men."

"I never though of that." Jon says, a little bit ashamed.

"You're still young and you have still a lot to learn. That's why we have the following rules between the brothers: 'Listen to your elders, protect the young, forget about your pride. And you'll live a good life under the Wall'." Benjen recites, affectionately tapping on his nephews shoulder. "I will be away for a couple of month." He suddenly seriously comes.

"Where are you going?"

"Down there." He points at the woods. "We have recently received some disturbing reports from the previous detachments. Lord Commander Mormont assignment me to identity the Wildlings' camps and their latest's movements."

"I'd like to come with you. Take me as your steward."

"You can't, Jon. You didn't take the oath yet and you're not ready. I just told you why." His uncle firmly answers.

.

In Robb's room, the three Stark brothers are helping each other to dress. A sort of merry little chaos seems to rule between them. Bran, sitting on his elder brother's bed, is already all set and he is giving advise on this or that piece of clothing the two others are showing him – Rickon just imitating Robb.

"Will I have to be married too, one day?" The youngest of the Starks asks them, with his recognizable high-pitched voice.

"I suppose, yes... But, you still have a few years ahead before worrying about that, my little man." The elder answers him with a smile.

"I don't think I am ever going to be married."

"Really?... Why?"

"I don't like girls. They are all stupid!" The little boy frankly speaks out.

"You say that now, Rickon. Give it some time. The grownups are much better, I promise you." Robb winks.

"Name me one girl that isn't stupid!" He insists.

"Well... Ylliria. Do you find her stupid?"

"Hum... No, but she does not count. I know her since forever."

"Your sisters maybe?"

"They are stupid! Sisters are Stupid!"

"Oh, of course. Well, lets see then... Belinda, the kitchen-maid, the today's bride? Do you find her stupid?"

"Sometimes, I heard her in the kitchen doing those strange noises with the other maids... Hihihihihi!" He imitates the sound. "That is stupid, isn't it?"

"You're right. That is stupid." Robb laughs. "So, are we all set? Yes? Let's go down then... Hodor?" He calls.

"Hodor!" The giant says when he enters the room.

"Take Bran downstairs and install him in his armchair".

"Hodor!" He repeats in his way of saying he understands the order.

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In the kitchen, an impressive squadron of women are preparing the tonight's gigantic banquet. Everybody invited at the wedding has brought some food and/or drinks. With everything they gathered, they will be able to feed the entire neighborhood and probably more. Also, Robb was generous enough to open the Castle's wine stock.

Every corner of the place is filled with plates, tray, pitchers and small barrels. From the oven, you can smell different venison and meat pies and tarts cooking. A spit is also settled in the big fireplace, a wild boar already slowly roasting. Everything is set to start the feast.

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	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Wedding in Winterfell (Part 2)

At five in the afternoon, the tower bell start to ring, announcing that the fiance arrives to pick up his future wife. Robb is waiting at the entrance of the Grand Hall to welcome them.

"My Lord." Ailwin bows in front of him.

"Come on in. We all have a toast before we'll head to the God's wood for the ceremony." Robb gently says.

The miller's family is impressed how the Grand Hall has been set up for their son's wedding. Several maids already going around, carrying trays with wooden beakers filled with wine and proposing them to the guests.

"My Lord, I do not know how to thank you for all your kindness. This is way to generous." Ailwin's father voices, twisting his hat between his hands.

"Oh, don't thank me. I have in my entourage a very persuasive person that has managed all this." He laughs. "And, to be honest, those last month were not really joyful. So, this was the perfect event to gather everyone around and forgetting about everything... At least for a day."

"Your father must be very proud, My Lord. You represent him very well. Everyone here would tell you the same."

"Now it's my turn to thank you. I'm touched by your affection. It's not always easy to earn respect, in view of my youth and my inexperience."

They are interrupted by applause made by the rest of the guests. The bride-to-be has entered the hall, followed by Ylliria in her wine and gold color velvet gown. Robb's eyes slightly widened at her sight.

Belinda curtseys before her Lord, then her future in-laws and finally her future husband. A maid brings them each a tumbler. They both rise their drinks toward their hosts and guests and clink them together under the cheers from everyone.

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It's already time to go for the sacred part of the ceremony. Ailwin gently takes Belinda's hand and opens the procession to the God's Wood, followed by his parents only, since Belinda is an orphan. Then Robb offers his arm to Ylliria, as representatives of the Lord's House. And then the rest follows in small groups.

All along the way, some are showering the future couple with seeds and grains of wheat to wish them a large family.

In front of the sacred Weirwood, Ylliria – That Belinda has chosen to be her witness – ties up their right hands together with a white ribbon before the two lovers are saying their marital vows. Offerings are laid down in front of the Sacred Tree and after some silent prayers to the Gods, everybody walks back to the Grand Hall to have gargantuan supper and finally to close the wedding with dances, drinks and laughs all night long.

Just a last small formality is asked to the new couple, before joining the party, Maester Luwin writes down in Winterfell's Book that at this day they, Belinda and Ailwin, freely made their matrimonial vows, in front of their Lord Robb Stark and the whole village. He makes them sign under the statement and gives them each half of a broken Golden Dragon, as the tradition wants it, since they were not able to afford the purchasing of rings.

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Everyone seems to enjoy the various choices of courses and it's in a loud hubbub that the supper is starting. All the ones that could play any sort of music instruments or could sing in Winterfell were assigned to entertain the evening. Very quickly a lot of people launch round dances and carols in the center of the Hall, surrounded by the tables.

"You did a wonderful work, organizing this wedding, Ylliria." Robb suddenly leans towards her.

"Thank you, My Lord. And it would not cost you the fortune the last King's visit has engulfed. Maester Luwin will be please to have my tiny little report in the morning. Everyone in Winterfell did their share and brought what you see on the tables and the decoration of the Hall. It was so beautiful to live this fellowship moment." She smiles.

"Winterfell's people are like that."

"Because, their Lords show them mercy, are listening to their requests and needs and are keeping them safe from harm. Not sure all of the Lords in the Seven Kingdoms are the same as this family."

Belinda arrives practically out of breath and reach out her hand across the table. "My Lady, come dance with me!" She joyfully calls. Ylliria jumps off her chair and rejoins her friend in a roar of laughter.

During one of the music breaks, Mikken, the blacksmith, suddenly says with a loud click of his tong. "Ahhhh!... Wine, my friends! It nourishes the body, restores health, aids digestion, clarifies ideas, opens the arteries, cures melancholy and helps in procreation!" He yells the last part, looking at the newlyweds.

"Aye to that, Mikken!" Robb screams back, raising his glass. "You are a man of fewer words. But, when you decided to talk, it's worth a good wine like this one!" He laughs.

"Thank you, My Lord. Another advantage to add to this list of benefits this God's beverage is procuring! Just the dosage is slightly different!" The blacksmith finishes with a hiccup and a loud burp, making the whole hall burst into laughter.

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During the next training session in Castle Black's courtyard, Jon is busy to explain to his companions how to have a hand-to-hand sword fight. He shows them some of his own tricks and movements.

"Look... Leg, shoulder, leg." He mimes to Pyp. "No, no... Not like that. Put your foot forward. Good... Now pivot and strike with your whole weight."

"What in the Seven Hells is that?" The young man suddenly points at a new recruit Sir Alliser Thorne, their Master-at-arms, is accompanying.

"Tell them your name." The Master orders to the chubby young man.

"Samwell Tarly of Hornhill... But you may call me Sam... My mother calls me Sam..." He shyly says.

"Can you fight, Samwell Tarly from Hornhill?" Alliser barks in his ears.

"No, Sir." He lowers his head.

"Show us what you have to offer to the Night's Watch." The Master pushes him in the center.

"But..." Sam tries to plead before receiving a knock on his left arm with a sword. He turns around to face one of the men that was in training session when he arrived. "Aoutch!" He lets out.

"You cannot possibly be worse than you look. Rast, lets see what he can do?" Thorne asks to another young men of his squadron. Rast swings his sword and hits Sam on the other shoulder this time. Despite the poor lad squeals, Rast continues to inflict whacks after whacks till Sam falls on the ground. "I yield!... Please no more." He pleads.

"On your feet! And pick up your sword!" The Master severely orders him. "Kick him till he finds his feet!" He yells at Rast, since he was not quick enough to do so. The bearded man, obviously enjoying this, starts his beating again.

Jon, not bearing this treatment anymore, wants to intervene, but Pyp stops him. "Enough!... He yield it!" He nevertheless screams and finally helps Sam to stand up.

"Looks like the bastard's in love!" Thorne snickers. "Go clean the Armory! That's all you good for anyway."

The two young men are going to the designated place. "It's not gonna get any easier, you know. You gonna have to defend yourself. Why didn't you get up and fight?" Jon asks the chubby young man.

"I wanted to... But, I just couldn't."

"Why not?"

"I'm a coward... My father always says so."

"The Wall is no place for cowards."

"I'm sorry... But, I want to thank you anyway." He reach out his hand that Jon finally accepts.

.

In Winterfell, the wedding party goes wonderfully. At this time of the evening, they only bemoan a few withdrawal by drunkenness. For the rest, no fights have spoiled the feast yet.

Looking at all the dancers, twirling around him, Bran starts to pout. He is a bit envious he cannot join them because of the lost of his legs. Ylliria notices the sad look on his face and sits next to him. She starts to clap her hands on the table, following the rhythm of the music. She winks at Rickon on her left and to the guest in front of her to encourage them to do the same. She adds a clap in her hands in between two claps on the table. Other non-dancing guests are now also following. The Lady joins another movement on her chain, doing a one clap in the hands, two claps on the table, tree claps in the hands and one clap on the table with the arms crossed. Bran looks at her incredulously. "Don't you wanna try my new table dance?" She maliciously says. The boy shakes his head, crossing his arms on his chest. "All right?" She continues to tap in rhythm, more and more people are joining her, even the dancers. Bran looks around him, all of them doing the table dance. He finally slowly unfold his arms and tries to catch up with the chain. When he sees Maester Luwin getting tangled up with the different movements, having no coordination what so ever, he breaks into a laugh as clear as a bell. From his seat, Robb cannot take his eyes from the scene of Ylliria and his two little brothers having so much fun.

.

It's getting late and the newlyweds decide to leave the Hall. In a last-ditch stand, all are giving them a thunderous applause. Maester Luwin is throwing the last revelers out while the maids are clearing the tables.

Ylliria tries to grab some flowers from the garlands on the wall to take them in her bedroom. Robb sees her staggering a little and comes to the rescue, holding her by the waist. "Ouh! Never saw them hanging so high." She giggles. "Do you think I'm short for a woman?" She asks him, lightly stammering her words.

"No, of course not! It is those maids that have put them way to high!" He jokes.

"Yes, you're right! They were placed way too high!" She repeats, frowning.

"Ylliria?"

"Hum, hum..." She distractedly mumbles, still staring at those garlands on the wall.

"What you did for Bran tonight was wonderful! You make him laugh like we didn't see him doing since he woke up." He gently turns her around to face him.

"Oh! Don't mention... I was just looking for a way out from Belinda's tireless dancing." She makes a funny face that was suppose to show that it was no big deal, but clearly proves she is tipsy.

Robb chuckles. "I think I'm going to accompany you to your room. I do not want another falling accident." He gently surrounds her with his arm, taking one of her hands in his and leads her through the stairs.

"It was a wonderful wedding, isn't it?" She stutters.

"Yes it was, Ylliria. Everybody seems to have enjoyed whole day long." He softly says, arriving in front of her door.

"Robb Stark, you are a wonderful young Lord! And I like you!" She taps with a finger on his chest, suddenly leaning towards him and gently presses her lips on his for a quick peck. And as nothing just happened, she simply turns around, entering her room and throwing a last smile before closing the door on a flabbergasted Robb.

.


	12. Chapter 12

**Just thank you everyone ;-)**

**Take care you all.**

Chapter 12: Dreams, Tales and Stories

Bran is bending his bow, aiming at the target in front of him when he is disturbed by the flight of a large black raven. He stares at the animal that caws to anyone who'll listen. Intrigued, the boy follows him around the Castle, till it leads him to the entrance of the family crypt. The bird suddenly turns his head towards the young man to show him the third eye in the middle of his forehead.

Bran wakes up with a start, his Direwolf close to him.

Old Nan is knitting on a chair near the bed. "You having those dreams again, young man."

"I don't!" He harshly answers

"Yes you do! You were mumbling something about a raven with three eyes near the crypt."

"And?"

"A three-eyed raven is a messenger from the future. You have to listen to his message or you will never know why he came to visit you in your sleep."

"Those are just tales, Old Nan."

"I though you like when I tell you tales of the Seven Kingdoms?"

"Not those boring legends about all the wonderful things that wonders around our world... I prefer the stories about the Wall and the White Walkers!"

"Hum... The boy prefers the scary ones, huh? Do you want me to tell you one?"

Bran enthusiastically nods when Ylliria appears in his room. "Rise and shine, my little prince. Time for your breakfast." She joyfully says, carrying a tray. "Old Nan, I'll stay with him, you may go down. Your breakfast's ready."

"Thank you, My Lady." The ancient says, putting down her knitting and leaving the room.

"Was she terrorizing you again?" Ylliria whispers him in a conspiracy tone.

"Nah... I'm too old now to be afraid of her stories." He giggles, pushing on his elbow to sit in his bed.

"What are you in the mood for today?"

"Don't know. Maester Luwin will come after the council to give me my lessons, I guess."

"You could maybe do them outside. The weather is not too bad today."

He shrugs, biting ravenously in his slice of bread covered with cheese.

.

Jon nearly finished another hard day of training with his companions. They were now all dressed with protection on their back, chest, forearms and legs and have a light sword for combat.

As last exercise, their Master-at-arms has requested to Jon to stand in the middle of a circle of five men and one at the time he will have to confront them. Despite their efforts and previous trainings, he still overcomes them all. "Well Lord Snow, that makes you the least useless person here." Thorne harshly smirks. "Go clean yourselves up. I've seen enough of you for today." He yells to everyone.

"Jon Snow, In my quarters!" Lord Commander Mormont calls him from the balcony.

The young man climbs up the stairs four at the time. "Commander." He salutes.

"There is a letter for you, arrived with this month supplies. It's from Winterfell."

"Good or bad news?" He dares to ask.

"Both, I'm afraid." The Commander smiles.

"Thank you, Commander." He says, leaving the room.

Outside, Jon nervously unseals it and starts to read the letter. He is a little bit disappointed to see that it is not Ylliria's handwriting, but a very short message from Maester Luwin advising him that Bran finally woke up, but that he has lost usage of his legs. The young man does not know if he must smile or weep at this news. He just sighs, looking at the huge Wall in front of him.

.

"Pssstt... My Lady." Belinda softly whispers when Ylliria's passes near the kitchen door. She makes a gesture with her hand for her to come in. "I heard a very disturbing story, My Lady. And since you didn't tell me anything about it, I must be sure its not a bad gossip." The kitchen-maid gently pushes her to sit down at the wooden table with her.

"Disturbing story? What kind?"

"The kind that involves you and Lord Stark." Belinda mysteriously comments.

"Me... Ahum... Me and Robb? That is so ridiculous!" Ylliria laughs, putting a hand on her chest to be sure that Belinda could not see her shivering.

"So, you didn't kiss him the night of my wedding?" The maid candidly speaks.

"Dah!... Well... All right, tell me the story and from whom you have heard it."

"Emma, the young maid... You know her, I believe."

The Lady nods.

"Well, Theon Greyjoy is often after her for... You know... And yesterday, he came flirting around as usual. But this time he lured her with a so-called secret information that he got from Lord Stark himself, he said. Emma started to do like she was interested and followed him in the small cellar next door."

"Oh, poor young thing. I hope he didn't ill-treated or forced her to do anything." Ylliria asks concerned.

"No, no... Don't you worry, My Lady. Emma might be still very young, she is not that innocent. She hide it well, but she is less stupid than she wants to make believe. And knows how it goes with men. So... Theon told her that after the wedding feast was over and that everybody was heading to their homes, you were a little... Let's call it 'Happy'... See what I mean, My Lady?"

"Yes, I think I know what you mean. At least, my head remembers the next morning." She softly laughs.

"And Lord Stark accompanied you back to your room because he feared that you could have fallen in the stairs."

"I don't remember that part very well, I must admit." Ylliria lightly blushes, a little embarrassed.

"That sort of things happens, My Lady. You were not used to drink wine a whole night long like that. And it was strong wine, I can tell you... Ailwin could not... See, we had to wait the next day to consume our marriage." Belinda giggles, making the young Lady giggle with her. "But, lets get back to one's muttons. So, the Lord brought you back to your room and... Well, it seems you told him how a great Lord he is and you kissed him full lips before closing your door."

"I didn't!" Ylliria says in shock.

"You don't remember doing that?"

"Ad!... Well... Ha!... No... I didn't... Oh by all the Gods!" She puts her elbows on the table and drops her head in her hands. "What am I suppose to do now?... And why did Robb tell that to... Theon Greyjoy!" She comments with disgust.

"Was Lord Stark any different with you since the wedding?" Belinda gently asks.

"Well... Actually not that I noticed. Buy, we hadn't the chance to have another one of our private discussion since."

"You have private discussions with Lord Stark?" The maid opens her eyes wide.

"We always openly talks to each other and this since we were kids. It seems I'm a good listener and he seems to be one to... We are throwing all our frustrations, fears, hopes, anything in the open. And so, one could give the other another point of view or some comfort when needed. But, we always did this... It never seemed odd or indecent to do so. Nothing ever happened, you know..."

"But it could appears weird to others... Now that he's acting as Lord of Winterfell and you both are slowly becoming adults."

"I will have to speak to him, isn't it?"

"Definitively! Better you to tell him, before too many scuttlebutt are turning around the Castle. And you know that the more you tell a story from one person to another, the more amazingly stupid it becomes... But, do you allow me to ask you a question, My Lady."

Ylliria nods.

"How do you feel about what you did? Now that you know it happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, liquor can sometimes uninhibited your most hidden desires... For some, it makes it easier to approach someone they wants to woo, but are too shy to do so. Before telling the Lord all this, you might as well think about what you feel about it."

"Hum... I must admit, those last months, Robb and I got closer. We're spending a lot of time together. He involves me more and more into the management of Winterfell. But even then, kissing him like that... It's really not me." Ylliria having a faraway look in her eyes.

"And what you certainly have to talk with Lord Stark is who spread that type of information around. I'm sure he does not know his dear 'friend' Theon..." She gestures quotation marks with her fingers. "Is talking about his private matters to anyone and could not be trusted."

"Thank you, Belinda... I really don't know what I could do if you were not here with me!" She gently smiles to her friend. "Say hi to Ailwin for me." She says leaving the kitchen.

.

Tyrion Lannister is going on top of the Wall to say goodbye to Jon on duty watch for the day.

"I'm going back South." The dwarf tells him.

"I'm sorry to see you leave, Lannister."

"It's either me or this cold! It doesn't appear to going anywhere... So..."

"Will you stop at Winterfell on your way back?"

"I expect I will."

"If you see my brother Bran. Tell him I miss him... Tell him I visit if I could."

"Any other message for any other person of the Castle?" Tyrion smirks.

"Hum... Well, tell them all I'm fine and well."

"All right then... I will put together a nice little story for the Lady Bennett on my way to Winterfell."

Jon looks dagger at the little man.

"You're hiding a portrait of her in your doubled, you have that constant melancholic gaze on your mug and we can see you run like a mad man each time a raven arrives in Castle Black. You must know by now that I'm not stupid."

"She and I are just friends."

"Of course, just friends... As you wish... Take care, Snow." He reaches over a hand.

"Far well, My Lord" Jon accepting the handshake.

The dwarf is going his way back down when suddenly the young man starts to run after him. "Lannister... Wait!" He takes out a squared folded paper, sealed with the Castle stamp, from his doubled. "Could you please hand this to Ylliria?"

"I will, Snow." He winks before closing the elevator iron door.

.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Unexpected Visitor.

Theon briskly enters Bran's room, making Summer growling. "We have visitors." He says.

"I don't want to see anyone today." He harshly answers, clapping the book he was reading.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice, Robb's waiting."

"I don't want to go."

"Neither do I. But, Robb is Lord of Winterfell now. Which means that I do as he says and you do as I say... Hodor!" He calls. The giant man enters the room. "Help Bran down the hall." He orders the half-wit, who immediately grabs the boy in his arm as he weights nothing.

.

Robb, Maester Luwin and Ylliria are sitting in front of the long solid wooden table in the Great Hall, for the morning council.

The first to burst into the room is a very singular visitor. "I must say I received a slightly warmer welcome on my last visit!" Tyrion 'the imp' Lannister complains.

"Any men of the Night's Watch is welcome at Winterfell." Robb sneers.

"Any men of the Night's Watch... But, not I, hey boy?"

"I'm not your boy, Lannister! I'm Lord of Winterfell while my father is away." Robb firmly allege, looking him straight in the eyes.

"Then you might well learn a Lord's courtesy." The dwarf reprimands him.

Suddenly, the side-door opens, letting Hodor still carrying Bran and Theon enter. "So, it is true... Hello, Bran. Do you remember anything about what happened?" He gently says.

"This is not relevant for you to know!" Ylliria abruptly speaks. Robb gently places a hand over hers to calm her down.

"He has no memory of that day." Maester Luwin adds.

"Curious." Tyrion whispers.

"Why are you here?" Robb asks.

"Would your charming companion be so kind to kneel. My neck is beginning to hurt." Lord Lannister requests to Bran.

"Kneel, Hodor!" The young boy gently orders the giant. He places Bran to sit on one of his thigh.

"Do you like to ride, Bran?" The dwarf starts.

"Yes... Well I mean I did like too."

"Is it not enough for you to know about his condition? Now, you want to take a wicket delight in it too?" Ylliria shouts out, briskly raising from her chair. Robb grabs her by the sleeve, looking dagger at her and forcing her to sit down and stay quiet.

"Ouhw!... I feel a certain amount of unfulfilled desires boiling in you, Lady Bennett." He says with a vicious tone.

"Mind your language, Lannister." Robb intervenes.

"The boy has lost the use of his legs. You should know that he will never be able to ride again." Maester Luwin calmly explains, wanting to appease the edginess tension in the room, before it gets out of hand.

"What of it! With the right horse and saddle, even a cripple can ride!"

"I'm not a cripple!" Bran standing up for himself.

"Then I'm not a dwarf! My father will be rejoiced to hear it... Here, I have a gift for you." He hands him a roll of paper. "Give that to your saddler. He'll provide the rest."

Bran unrolls the velum where several sketches of a saddle, in the form of a chair with some iron supports for the legs attached to it, are drawn in details.

"You must shape the horse to the rider. You start with a young horse and teach him to respond to the reins and to the boy's voice instead of the heels." Tyrion continues his explanations facing Robb.

"Would I really be able to ride?" Bran asks.

"You will... On horseback, you will be as tall as any of them." The dwarf gently smiles.

"Is this some kind of trick? Why do you want to help him?" Robb suspiciously asks.

"Certainly some odious crimes he needs forgiveness from the Gods!" Ylliria mumbles between her teeth, breathing heavily from the anger.

"Enough!" Robb severely whispers to her.

"I have a tender-spot in my heart for cripples, bastards and broken things." Tyrion smirks, looking at her.

"You've done my brother a kindness... The hospitality of Winterfell is yours." The young man reluctantly says.

"Spare me your faults courtesies, Lord Stark. There's a brothel outside your walls. There, I'll find a bed and we all can sleep easier." He turns around and leaves the room.

"Robb?" Ylliria burst out as soon as Tyrion is gone.

"Not now! This meeting is adjourned. Go to you duties. We'll talk later." He fiercely voices, leaving the hall, followed by Theon.

She pushes her chair away and furiously leaves the place by the opposite door.

Maester Luwin heavily sighs, rolling his eyes on the ceiling asking for the Gods' help, before accompany Hodor and Bran back to his room.

.

During his free time, Jon is always going to his favorite spot, the top of the wall, watching at the horizon and sometimes to Ylliria's portrait. Suddenly some footsteps are approaching, he hurries to hide the little wooden square in his doublet before anybody could see it.

"Hello..." Sam slyly calls. "Sir Alliser said I'm to be your new watch partner. I should warn you. I don't see all that well." He explains in an apologetic tone.

"Come stand by the fire. It's warmer." Jon sighs, still looking at the horizon.

"Oh, it's all right... I'm fine." The chubby young man dancing from one foot to the other.

"You're not. You're freezing!"

Sam finally decides to approach. "I don't like high places."

"You can't fight... You can't see... You're afraid of heights and most of everything else probably... What are you doing here, Sam?"

"My father. He said I could not inherited because I was not worth the title of Lord. He couldn't stand seeing me the way I am and even suspected that I was not his legitimate son. So, at my eighteenth name-day, he gave me a choice to make. The Wall or a hunting accident. So, my younger brother, my father's favorite, could be Lord in a more legal way and without my mother knowing anything about his plan." He sadly tells.

Jon is left aghast to hear his story.

"Sir Alliser will make me fight again tomorrow, isn't he?" Sam asks.

"Most probably."

"I won't be getting any better you know."

"Well... You can't get any worse."

They both starts to laugh at that comment.

"Oh! I almost forgot. A raven arrived for you." He hands him the little rolled paper. "In my opinion it's a woman." He giggles. "I saw the handwriting. I didn't read it, tho." He quickly adds when he sees Jon's bad look on his face.

The young man nervously unrolls the paper and starts to read it, a sweet smile slowly shaping his face.

"Would it be too soon to ask you who she is?" Sam carefully tries.

"It would, Sam." Jon gently answers, rereading the little note.

.

Theon goes to the brothel, to rejoin Lord Tyrion Lannister before he enters. "If you want to have the best lay around here, you should ask for Ross. She is... Grrrr!" He smirks, letting out a roar of pleasure.

"At least, you seemed to be more pleasant than your Masters." Tyrion attaching the rains of his horse to a ring in the wall of the house.

"They are not my Masters."

"Neh!... Of course not" The dwarf smirks. "I'd like to know something. Where is Lady Stark? And why didn't she receive me?"

"She wasn't feeling well."

"She is not in Winterfell, is she? Where did she go?"

"The Lady's whereabouts..."

"The Lady's whereabouts..." Tyrion chuckles. "Your loyalty to your captors is touching." He grabs something out of his pocket. "Here, hand this to the Lady Bennett? It's from Jon Snow. I didn't had the chance to give it to her. She was also not feeling well, I suppose." He explains finally entering the brothel.

Theon looks at the letter, places it in front of the poor sunlight to see if he could read something through it before slipping it in his inner pocket.

.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: All bets are off.

Ylliria, locked up in her bedroom, is trying to concentrate on her reading. After having red four times the same paragraph and still being clueless on about what it talks about, she irately closes her book and throws it on the little table next to her. She is still angry on what happened during this morning's session.

Someone suddenly hardly knocks. "It's Robb! Open the door!" He harshly says.

"It is open." She dryly replies, standing up ready to confront him.

"I'd like to speak with you about your behavior at this morning council." He starts, putting his arms behind his back.

"My behavior? Really?" She smirks.

"The way you interfered when I was discussing with Lord Lannister was intolerable and unworthy of a Lady." Robb tries his best to speak in a calmly tone.

"Unworthy?... This filthy imp just got what he deserved." She launches.

"He is a Lord, Ylliria! And has to be treated as one. He is the King's brother-in-law, for the Gods sake!" He raises his voice. "You had no right to intervene during my council, unless asked to… This morning, you even undermined my authority! Despite the two gentle warnings I gave you. We are not kids playing silly games anymore! This is real life we're facing... And there are rules. Common rules that you should know, by the way."

"Oh, you really believe that I will stay with my mouth shut when you are... Welcoming a murderer in your own house! Do I have to refresh your memory? Go to Bran's room and watch what he did to him!"

"We still have no proof of that!"

"Your mother gave us enough proof to know it is the truth, Robb!"

"Throwing your wrath at him like that was certainly not the smartest move you made."

"Robb, we have him right here in Winterfell. Let's take him in custody and question him." She tries another approach.

"And put my father and my two sisters in danger? Ylliria, think! Do you know who the Lannister's really are and what power they have? They practically rule the Seven Kingdoms! And nothing good will ever come out of a confrontation with them."

"We could keep him. He will be our shield!" She continues to plead.

"You are no member of this family!… It is not your decision to make!" He yells.

"It is with this kind of attitude that things will never change in the Kingdoms? The North will always stay under the hand of the South. Just swallowing whatever rules it will impose to us!" She shouts. "Well, you might as well continue to perform your courtship display towards those Lannister's... And don't forget to bend deep to let them..."

He slaps her in the face before she could finish her sentence. She covers her red cheek with one of her hands, looking dagger at Robb. "Get out of my room!" She mutters between her teeth. "I prefer facing the viper's nest that is the King's court, than staying here with you one more day. I'll leave Winterfell in the morning!"

"You won't go anywhere without my permission!" He warns her, pointing a finger at her.

"I am not one of your slaves, My Lord." She smirks. "You cannot hold me here against my will. You are nor my father, nor my brother, nor my husband!" She lightly curtseys.

"I AM YOUR LORD AND YOU WILL DO AS I COMMAND!" Robb is beside himself.

"GET OUT OF MY ROOM!" She screams, tears running down her face.

Robb takes a deep breath to regain his composure. "As of today, you are excused from all the councils and will be reduced to the role of managing Winterfell's Household." He turns around and violently slams the door on his way out.

.

At the foot of the stairs, as soon as they hear the door banging, Belinda and Maester Luwin are discreetly withdrawing to the kitchen. They have listen up the whole fight between Robb and Ylliria.

"Those two, I think they are ripe for marriage!" The kitchen maid comments.

"The only problem is that they are the only ones that still don't know it!" Master Luwin softly laughs.

.

Jon enters the dining hall after a long night watch with Sam. He puts down his cloak, grabs a plate, a crusty end of bread and sits in front of his companions.

"Where have you been?" Grenn, the tall and muscular one of the group, asks him with his mouth full.

"Watch duty... With Sam."

"And where is he?"

"He wasn't hungry."

"Impossible!" Pyp smirks, making Grenn laugh.

"That's enough! Sam's no different from the rest of us. There is no place for him in this world, so he came here. You're not gonna hurt him in the training yard anymore. Never again, no matter what Thorne says. He is our brother now and we're going to protect him." Jon explains to the two guys in from of him.

"You are in love, Lord Snow." Rast speaks out from the table behind him. "You girls can do as you pleased. But, if Throne puts me against Lady Piggy, I'm gonna slice me a piece of bacon!"

Jon looks dagger at him and turns his back just to ignore him.

_._

Robb rushes down the stairs. He kicks against a bench, pushes violently a chair aside on his way out and slams the heavy wooden door behind him. Theon, that was happily finishing his supper, sees his friend passing, rushing through the Grand Hall without even notice he was there. He calmly stands up, letting out a heavy sigh, grabs a goatskin of wine from the kitchen and goes out. He finds Robb sitting on a bench near the stables, holding his head between his hands, breathing heavily and mumbling in his teeth. Theon gently sits next to him, waiting for the young man to calms down a bit. He opens the goatskin and takes long gulps of wine, before casually hand it over to his friend. The Lord accepts it and drinks it half through.

"Wanna come with me at the brothel tonight?... I'm buying." Theon proposes him.

"No, thanks. I think I'm better off for a ride in the woods."

"This late? Alone?"

"Yeah!... I need to clear up my head and be on my own for a while."

"That bad, huh?"

"I really shouldn't have hit her, Theon. I shouldn't even have yelled at her like I did. She will never forget me for that." He suddenly sobs.

"Hey, come on, Robb. Don't blame yourself too much for that! It's only one woman!"

"It is not just one woman, Theon! How dare you treat her that way?" He screams, rising from the bench and entering the stables, leaving a quite dazed friend.

"The Gods be damned, the fool is in love... That filthy Witch will pay for that!" Theon whispers, taking another gulp of wine.

Robb grabs his saddle and opens his horse's box. The groom comes running up to help him. "It's all right, Ben. I'll take care of this myself."

"My Lord." He bows and goes back to his duty.

The young Lord jumps on his steed and firmly taps his heels on its flanks to put it in full gallop, racing through the courtyard and out the Castle.

Only when arrived deep in the woods, Robb slows down his mount and lets out a huge loud scream mixing rage and despair.

.

When all the cadets are fast asleep in their dormitory, Jon, Pyp, Grenn and the Direwolf are silently approaching Rast's bunk. Jon gags him with a rolled up hankie, while Pyp and Grenn grab each an arm and Ghost stands on top of the poor lad, growling and baring his teeth. "No one touches, Sam!" Jon simply says before they all leave a completely terrorized young man.

.

At the next morning's fight-training, the Master-at-arms puts Sam in the middle of the circle. The first contestant that he opposes against the chubby guy is Rast with Jon constantly staring at him.

"What are you waiting for?" Thorne asks him, when he sees the guy hesitating. Sam, with all the courage he could manage, tries to launch an attack with the tip of his sword. Barely moving, Rast disarms him with a simple twist of his wrist. Sam's sword falls just in front of Thorne's feet. He picks it up and goes back in the center, waiting for the next move. "ATTACK HIM!" Alliser barks. Rast slightly taps him with the flat side of his sword. Thorne grabs his arm and pushes him away. "You, get in there!" He orders Grenn.

"Hit me." The tall guy whispers to Sam. The young man turns around towards Jon, who nods to encourage him to do so. "Go on! Hit me!" Grenn repeats. Sam pricks him in the shoulder. Grenn heavily flops down on the ground. "I yield! I yield!" He screams with a lot of gestures and cries of faked pain.

Thorne is not fooled by this act and marches right to Jon, grabbing him by the collar. "You think this is funny do you?" Jon holds the Master's gaze. Thorne pushes him away and returns to his men. "When you will be out there, beyond the Wall, with the sun going down. Do you want a man at your back?... Or a sniveling boy like this one?" He leaves the courtyard.

_._


	15. Chapter 15

**Thank you for all your nice little words of support. **

**You do not imagine how that helps me to go through this story. ;-) I hope I won't disappoint you now.**

**Take care you all.**

.

Chapter 15: After rain comes sun.

"You're an early riser, My Lady." Theon says, leaning against a beam in the stables where she is busy to ready her horse for a ride.

"You are on spying mission again, Theon?" She answers, not stopping what she is doing.

"Why 'again'?"

"It seems that you are doing that a lot lately. That and gossiping." She goes on the other side of the animal to tighten the strap on its belly. "Oh, and don't bother swearing all the Gods to me that you would not tell your Lord if he asks you if you saw me today. I know you will go on about it as soon as you're out of here."

"So, do I have to understand that you don't trust me?" He enters the box.

"I'm afraid you're the last person around here I would confide to."

"Oh, go down your high horses, My Lady! I know what you are up to. You know that Robb has a weakness for you and that he is Lord Winterfell's heir. How easy for you to seduce him, marry him and quickly give him children to secure your status around here."

"That's what you think of me? That I'm a schemer? Oh, oh, oh!" She sneers. "It's worse than I tough. You really hate me that much, huh? What did I ever do to you?"

"I don't hate you... All the contrary." He slowly approaches. "It's just that Robb is not the only future Lord around. You might as well widen up your perspectives." He gently caresses her check with the back of his hand.

"And I suppose you're counting yourself in the pack." She burst into laughter, pushing him away. "Even if you were the last men on earth, I still won't even have a single look at you, Theon!"

He grabs her wrist and draws her to him, his mouth an inch away from hers. "And why is that?" He groans.

"I never liked you. There is something in your eyes, deceitful. You're untrustworthy and one day you will turn on us. That I know!" She gets away of his holding and shifts him on the side. "Just one last warning. Don't you ever dare touching me again, Greyjoy! Or I will kill you myself!" She takes the reins of her horse and goes in the courtyard to mount him.

.

A little later that same morning, Robb is sitting at the kitchen-table. Belinda has prepared him his morning breakfast. But, he's not really hungry and pushes away the steaming plate. And even with his little night walk in the woods, he didn't sleep well either.

"What am I doing wrong?" Robb asks Maester Luwin seating in front of him.

"You're not doing anything wrong, My Lord. You manage Winterfell quiet well."

"Hum." He scoffs.

"Oh, I see… You were not referring to Winterfell." The old man clears his throat. "Robb, in the case that preoccupies you, my advice, for what it's worth, is to go talk to Lady Bennett. Try the gently way this time." He softly laughs. "And maybe a little apology would ease the tension."

"How do you know for us?"

"Robb, it's obvious for everyone around but you two. There are things that you can't hide. Neither of you."

"You think that she could also have…?"

"Definitively!" Luwin mouths.

"But, she never showed anything. Or never said anything. I mean, we were with each other like we always were. So, what did change?"

"You're growing into adults. That's what changed. And one of you will have to break the ice and talk about your feelings. If you wait for her and she waits for you. You will continue to circle around for a long time."

"Bah!" He shakes his head. "It's too late now!"

"What make you think that?"

"I…" Robb sighs. "Yesterday, during the argument… I… I smacked her… Pretty hard."

"Oh!" Maester Luwin thinks for a moment. "Well, there is your ready-made apology!" He pats Robb's shoulder before leaving the room.

The young Lord looks at Belinda a little lost. She smiles at him. "Your Lady is at the pond, My Lord." She winks.

"Thank you." He mouths, rushing out the kitchen.

.

Sam and Jon have been roped for cleaning the dining hall. With a scrub-brush, they are rubbing the tables and the benches with sand to remove any food left-overs.

"Is it still not the time to ask you about the Lady?" Sam joyfully asks.

"Why are you so curious about her?" Jon smiles.

"Well, it's a little strange for a man that is about to swear an oath that imposes celibacy to continuously think about a woman... It's not healthy." He seriously declares.

"And why is that not healthy?" Jon laughs. "And what do you know about those things anyway?"

"Why are you asking that? Because I'm fat you think I don't know things about girls?"

"No, I didn't say it in that way... I'm sorry if I have offended you, Sam."

"I like girls just as much as you do. They might not like me as much. Actually, I've never being with one. When you had probably hundreds." Sam smirks.

"No, as a matter of fact, the same as you."

"Huh... Yeah!" He scoffs in disbelieve. "I find that hard to conceive."

"I've been close, once." Jon's gaze starting to go far away.

"You didn't know where to put it?" Sam says with a half smile.

"I know where to put it!" He gets indignant. "But, it never went that far with her. It was just a kiss."

"How is she?"

"Young... Beautiful... Sweet... And smart... And funny."

"Ouh! What color of hair?"

"Auburn."

"I like red hair too. And what about her... Hum." He puts both hands on his chest.

"She is a Lady, Sam!" He protests.

"Oh, come on. It's not like I would be able to tell her that one day!"

Jon lightly blushes and softly smiles. "All right then... From what I could imagine from under her gown... Well... Hum... Nice and round."

"Oh, oh, oh!" Sam giggles. "Why by the Sevens are you here if you have such a beauty waiting for you in Winterfell?"

"What is my name?"

"What does it have to do with...?"

"Sam, what is my name?"

"Jon Snow."

"And why is my surname, Snow?"

"Because... You're a bastard from the North."

"I never met my mother. My father never even wanted to tell me her name. I don't know if she's living or dead. I don't know if she is a noble woman or a fisherman's wife or a whore." He heavily sighs. "Ylliria, on the other hand... She is a Lady, from noble blood. Her family ancestors going up a hundreds of years. If by all chance we were able to marry, our children would be bastards just like me with the name Snow. It's not a good life for a child, nor for a Lady... I just couldn't make her live that."

"That's sad." Sam says. They stay silent for a moment. "Hum. So, you didn't know where to put it!" He jokes. Jon throws him his brush and turns around the table to start a fake fight, making them both burst into laughter.

.

Ylliria stops her ride in the middle of the Sacred Wood, near the pond. She sits down on the flat stone in front of the Weirwood. "Oh mighty tree from the Old Gods, I came here to pray for my lost loved ones. May they be, on the other side of life, happy and in peace. Please lay your blessing to all the members of the Stark family and their household. Those who were always generous and kind towards me." She sighs. "I am in your presence today to seek your advice. And that in your gracious wisdom you could throw light on my winding path." She continues her silent prayer explaining what happened the day before, not at any moment putting the blame on anyone than herself. "I terribly regret the things I've said in my anger. Why is it so difficult to grow up? When we were kids, we fought all the time. There where meaningless little things, soon forgotten when we found a new game to play. Here, this fight, will have consequences, I know. Things between us will never be the same anymore. Me, my big mouth and my bad temper! I should have stayed where I belong, being a Lady. I'm begging you, oh mighty Weirwood. I seek your forgiveness and to give peace to my troubled hart." She lets her mind drift away for an instant, letting herself carried by the cracking noises of the tree's branches and the wind going through its blood colored leaves_._

_._

Robb approaches from the pond. In the far, he sees her sitting on the stone. He dismounts from his horse and finished the way on foot. She lightly jumps from surprise when she hears a horse whinnying on her left. She turns her head and recognises Robb's mount.

"I knew you would come here. Since, I didn't see you at breakfast, I supposed you…" He smiles, embarrassed.

"I needed a moment on my own to think... And I came to some conclusions and decisions." She seriously says.

"Oh! But, before you announce them, I need to..."

"Please, Robb!" She gently cuts him, putting a hand in front of her. "The things I said yesterday, in the fit of anger, were unfair, gratuitously hurtful and a disgrace for a Lady." She lower her gaze to the ground. "Therefore, I would like to apologize to you and just hope you will forgive me one day."

"Ylliria..." He tries, making a step closer to her.

"I am not expecting your mercy right away." She cuts him again. "But humbly request from you to believe when I say that I did not meant a single word. You are a good Lord. Righteous and equitable..." Her speech is suddenly interrupted by Robb's mouth over hers, holding her head between his hands.

"Will you now shut up for a instant and listen to me?" He softly says. She opens her mouth, but when she see he's ready to kiss her again she does not speak. "I fall in love with you, Lady Ylliria Bennett. I think I knew it for a moment already, but couldn't hope you could sharing my..." He smiles. "I cannot imagine my life without you anymore and I don't want you to leave Winterfell." He sighs. "Those things we both said and did yesterday have..." Now it's her turn to stops his talk by kissing him. He takes her in his arms, pressing her against him. She slowly stroke her hands along his back. Both deepening their embrace.

.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: We are all someone's prisoner.

Ylliria and Robb are riding back to Winterfell, merrily talking and laughing. Maester Luwin comes out the Castle when he hears the horses entering the courtyard. "My Lord, we might have a problem... Peasant Brooker's barn collapsed. Nobody was hurt, thank the Gods. But, it's harvest time next week. We need to rebuild his granary and hay loft as soon as possible or he might lose this year's produce."

"Don't we have any men available?" Robb asks, handing the reins of his horse to the groom and removing his leather gloves.

"No, My Lord... Our last four are with the carpenter to restore the east side stables that burned down the other month. And won't have finished before ten days at least."

Robb takes a minute to think. "Hum... Conscript the carpenter and three of his men and send them to Brooker. Ask him to leave his apprentice at the stables. Theon and I will help him to finish this work." He orders.

"Yes, My Lord." Maester Luwin directly goes to the carpenter to give him his new assignment.

.

Lady Stark and Rodrik Cassel are on their way back to Winterfell. They made a halt in a tavern to take a well deserved supper and to pass a comfortable night, after a long day ridding their horses.

Suddenly the door goes open and Rodrik sees Tyrion Lannister coming in with his personal guards. The Master-at-Arms quickly whispers to the Lady to hide her face in her foulard.

The dwarf slowly walks through the tables in the dining-room, trying to find one free for him and his men, ordering beer and food to the waitress in the process.

"Lady Stark!" He calls when he recognizes her. "What an unexpected pleasure? I'm sorry to have missed you in Winterfell."

There are murmurs starting amongst the other tables at the sound of her name. She slowly raises from her bench, taking off the headscarf and faces the room. "I was still Catelyn Tully when I last stayed here... You, Sir." She approaches a man on her left. "Is that the black-bat of Harrenhal I see embroidered on your coat?"

"It is, My Lady." The man answers, making a light bow.

"And is Lady Whent a true and honest friend to my father, Lord Hoster Tully of Riverrun?"

"She is."

"The red stallion were always a welcome sign at Riverrun. My father counts Jonos Bracken amongst his oldest and most loyal Bannermen." She continues, looking at another man.

"My Lord is honored by his trust." The knight bows, a hand on his heart.

"I envy your father and all is fine friends, Lady Stark. But, I don't quite see the purpose of this?" Tyrion wonders.

"I know your armorial as well." Lady Stark making a few steps further in the room. "The twin towers of Frey. How is your Lord doing, Sir?"

"Lord Walden is well, My Lady. He plants to take another wife for his ninetieth Name Day." The gentleman alleges with a smile.

Lady Stark goes back in the middle of everybody, facing Tyrion again. "This man..." She points at the dwarf. "Came into my house as a guest. And there, conspired to murder my son. A boy of ten." She pauses. "In the name of King Robert and the good Lords you serve, I call upon you to seize him and help me return him to Winterfell to await the King's justice..."

They're all taking their sword out of their stealth and aim at the Lord Lannister.

.

Ylliria is sitting on a bench under the roof rack next to the kitchen door, her back leaning against the wall and her sewing basket next to her. She is patching up one of Rickon's leather jackets to enlarge it, the youngest Stark is growing by the minute. Her attention is diverted by men laughs coming from the other side of the courtyard. She raises her head and sees Robb and Theon, naked to their waist, coming out of the stables and going for the water barrel. She quickly looks back down at her sewing work, but can't resists to have from time to time little glimpses on a certain person. Robb rapidly plunges his head in the water and splashes some on his chest and arms, still discussing and laughing with Theon. He grabs a towel that hanged on a nail in the wall and dries himself, while Theon is now washing off the dirt and the sweat from their hard day of work in the stables. Ylliria, still distracted by the scene, suddenly pricks her thumb and lets out a little curse. Sucking at her finger, she innocently has another quick looks at Robb. The two men are arriving towards her, their cloth over their shoulder, already making plans for tomorrow workday. When they come up to her, she faints to be completely absorbed by her work.

"I'm starving... I could devour a complete wild boar!..." Robb exclaims, smiling at her.

"Let's see what Belinda has in store for us..." Theon replies, opening the heavy wooden door.

.

After supper, Theon begs leave of the table, having some urgent business to attempt, as he says.

"Urgent business, huh?" Ylliria grins.

"I see you understood his 'red-haired' innuendo." Robb smiles, taking a gulp of this wine.

"So, are the repairs at the East stables progressing?" She casually asks.

"Slowly, I'm afraid. Truth is that I never did any carpenter work before this day... Look at my hands!" He shows her his bruised palms.

"Hum... Those are nice blisters you have there, My Lord. And I even see a splinter here and there. Don't move, I have everything you need to heal these." She runs up the stairs.

A few minutes later, she is back with a small stoneware pot, a little bottle and a cloth that she puts down on the table. She also grabs her sewing basket before sitting down next to him.

"You are not going to sew my fingers together, aren't you?" Robb asks only half-joking when he sees her taking a needle and a dart out of her basket.

"No, you silly! It's for your splinters." Ylliria chuckles. She gently takes one of his hands, palm up and passes several times the dart across the flame of the candle on the table before delicately removing one by one the little wood pieces out of the skin.

"You are good at this." Robb gently says.

"Thank you." She smiles at him and takes the needle to slightly pierce the blisters and getting rid of the liquid. Once she finishes with that, she soaks the cloth with vinegar and gently swabs the little scratches on his hands, making his lightly hiss.

"Don't be a baby!"

"It stings." He pleads.

"Oh, poor little you." She mocks him, starting to lightly blowing over his palms.

"You know... I saw you this afternoon." Robb bending his head towards her.

"Of course you saw me this afternoon."

"No, I mean I saw you lurking at me."

"Lurking at you?" She's falsely playing surprise.

"Yes, lurking at me when I came out the stables."

"I wasn't lurking... You made a lot of noise and you distracted me from my sawing work." She opens the stoneware pot and takes a little knob of yellow unguent on a tip of two fingers.

"Oh, yes you were lurking!"

"If you saw me lurking, that would mean you were lurking at me too, then." She smirks, applying the unguent all over his palms.

"Of course, I was lurking at you. With one difference, I'm not denying it! Like you do." He comes a little bit closer.

"All right... So..." She lightly bites her underlip. "Maybe, I may admit that I was lurking a little bit too then." She says, falsely shy, throwing him little glimpses.

"Just a little bit? Are you sure?" He is now an inch away from her lips.

"Just to see what I wanted to see..." She brushes her mouth against his.

He puts an hand behind her head and kisses her deeply.

.

Theon has sneaked his favorite whore into his bedroom. They are making love. At the edge of his climax, Ross pretends to have her own by letting out small cries of pleasure. "Hush... Keep it down. You're not suppose to be inside the Castle walls." He says, taking back his breath.

"I though you were on of the influential person around here." She pushes him away from her.

"Influential enough for a whore." He flips on his back, putting an arm behind his head.

"You are not the only Noble man in my life, you know."

"Who else?... The Imp?... I call him half-a-noble."

"Jealous?" She mocks him.

"Why should I be jealous? I'm a Greyjoy! We are Lords of the Iron-Islands for three-hundred years. There is not a family in Westeros that cannot look down on us. Not even the Lannisters." He proudly comes.

"And what about the Starks?"

"I've been Lord Stark's ward since I was eight years old."

"A ward?... That's a nice word for it! Your father rebelled against King's Robert."

He grabs her by the hair and pulls her head near his. "My father fought for the freedom of his people."

"You are a very honorable boy."

"I'm not a boy!"

"Oh yes you are... A honorable boy with a honorable cock." She answers, grabbing his member in her hand.

"I don't want to pay for it anymore."

"Get yourself a wife then."

"Oh, I already have a good candidate, worth my title and my longings. She just doesn't know it yet!" He grins, letting go of his grip.

.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Some comes, other goes.

Jon and Sam are on duty watch on top of the wall again.

"I miss girls!" Sam suddenly complains. "Not talking to them. I never talk to them, just looking at them. Hearing them giggle. I wish I have a portrait to look at like you. Don't you miss her? Jon, are you listening to me?" He says when he notices that his friend is like hypnotized by something at the horizon. "What you looking at?" He approaches.

"Riders..." Jon whispers.

"The horn! We have to blow the horn!" Sam runs in the little guardhouse.

"Why is he alone?" Jon still staring at the little black moving dot on the snowy immensity.

"One blast for a ranger returning, two for Wildlings, three..." Sam recites.

"Is no rider." The young man marches down the corridor and taking the elevator down, Sam running after him, having a hard time to follow.

In the inner tunnel between the Wild Forest and the Castle, a lonely horse gallops his way to the other side.

Jon arrives in the courtyard at the same time that the groom holding the completely panicking animal. Lord Commander Mormont is also there looking at the scene. "That's my uncle Benjen's horse." The young man says. "But, where's my uncle?"

_._

"What do you think for tonight's supper, My Lady? A deer stew or a White capon soup?"

"White capon soup would be perfect, Belinda." Ylliria distractedly replies, continuing her embroidery.

"My Lady?" The kitchen-maid shyly calls, waiting for the young woman to lift her head. "There is something I have to tell you." She smiles. "It is now two moons that I didn't bleed."

Suddenly Ylliria jumps from the bench and grabs her friend in her arms. "Oh, Belinda! That is such good news. Congratulations! Do Ailwin already know?"

"Yes, I told him last night already... But please, do not worry for the kitchen-hold. I am training Emma to replace me during my labor. Pray the Gods that all goes well on that side. And so I won't be absent for long."

"I'm not worried about that at all. And you will take the time you need." Ylliria starts to gaze outside. "It will be a child of the end of summer, a golden child."

"Yes, I know. Good omen that is. I already thought of names. It's going to be a Matthew or an Eva."

"Those are really lovely names, Belinda." The Lady taking the maids hands, suddenly feeling weepy.

"Oh, My Lady, don't cry." She takes her in her arms.

"These are not sad tears, there are happy ones." Ylliria sobs. "It just reminds me once again that we are children no more" She wipes them off with her sleeve.

"I'm afraid not... I'm going to be a mother. Who had thought that just a year ago, huh?"

"You will be a perfect mother."

"As you will be a perfect wedded Lady soon."

"Maybe." She smiles, sitting down again and making a small gesture with her hand for Belinda to sit down too.

"The young Lord didn't propose to you yet?"

"Oh, it's way too soon. And nor Lady or Lord Stark are home. We need their permission."

"But, you love him, right? When I see you together, you seem both so..." She looks for the exact word. "So radiant."

"Really!" Ylliria laughs.

"Don't mock me, My Lady. I think you are well fitted together."

Ylliria looks away. "I like Robb, for sure. He is sweet, attentive, righteous, well-build and strong. I feel safe when I am with him."

"You forgot good-looking!" Belinda winks, making Ylliria lightly blush.

"And good-looking, yes... I know he will be a good Lord when the time has come. And I will have a very happy life on his side..."

"Oh, I hear a 'but' coming." The kitchen-maid sits next to her.

"There is no 'but'. I like him very much. My heart beats faster each time I see him. My legs are shaking when he takes a decision at the council, with his strong low voice. My head is spinning when he kisses me. Is this not what supposed to happen when you like a man?"

"Feelings are tricky little pixies. They come, they go. A year all right, another low. You may catch passion several times in your life, My Lady. But, the true love comes along only once."

"What do you mean with 'true love'? Are there different types of love?" The young Lady asks confused.

"When you talk about Lord Robb, you say that you 'like' him... Not that you 'love' him. That is why I was telling you about feelings and there little magic tricks. You may enjoy the company of a person for a certain time and really thinking you could spend the rest of your life together. And one day, pouf! The man becomes a total stranger in your eyes. Feelings have left your heart. But, true love is different. Time cannot alter it, change it or take it away. It stays forever." She pauses. "My Lady, don't get angry with me for what I will ask you next... But, do you still have thoughts for Jon Snow?"

Ylliria sighs. "I miss him for sure and sometimes I still think of him. Hoping he is fine, that he isn't in any danger. Or about what he is doing at Castle Black these days. But, like I told you before, he does not feel the same way I feel. He made that clear before he left for the Wall. I made my grief and I feel happy with Robb." She rises from the bench. "Nonetheless, I will think of all the things you've said and make sure I do the right thing without hurting anybody." She leaves the kitchens.

.

Theon is training with his bow, while Bran is doing his lessons with Maester Luwin. He stares at the young man with envy and barely listen to what Luwin tells him.

"Bran, pay attention! What is this?" He points at a land on the map with his stick.

"The Iron Islands. Emblem, a Kraken. Words, we do not sow."

"Lords?"

"The Greyjoys."

"Famous for their skills at archery, their navigation. And their love making." Theon chuckles.

"And failed rebellions..." Ylliria adds, sitting on the other side of the table, busy to read a book called 'the Red book of plants and herbs' written by a certain Maester Ymbert. The squire looks dagger at her before shooting another arrow in the middle of the target. Maester Luwin gives Ylliria a side look and points at another part of the map for Bran.

"The Westerlands. Emblem, a Lion. Words, a Lannister always pays his debts."

"No. A common saying, but not their official motto."

"I don't know them."

"You do know them. Think!"

"Unbowed, unbent, unbroken."

"That's House Martell."

"Righteous in wrath."

"That's House Hornwood."

"Family, duty, honor."

"Those are Tully words. It's your mother's. Are we playing a game?"

"Family, duty, honor. Is that the right order?"

"You know it is."

"Family comes first."

"Bran." Ylliria gently warns him.

"You mother had to leave Winterfell to protect the family." Luwin softly explains.

"How could she protect the family, if she's not WITH her family?" He insolently says.

"Your mother sat by your bed for three weeks while you slept." The young Lady points out.

"And then she left." He retorts.

"When you were born. I was the one that pulled you from your mother. I placed you in her arms. From that moment. And till the moment she dies. She will love you. Absolutely... Fiercely..." Maester Luwin explains.

"Why did she leave?"

"I still can't tell you. But, she will be home soon."

"Do you know where she is now? Today?"

"No, I don't."

"So, how can you promise me she will be home soon?"

"Bran, enough now! No need to become impertinent towards Maester Luwin." Ylliria reprimands the young Lord.

"Sometimes, I find him too smart for your own good" He sighs, smiling.

"I will never shoot another arrow." Bran pouts.

"And where is that written?"

"You need legs to bend a bow."

"Huh." The Maester scoffs. "If the saddle Lord Lannister has designed will actually works, you could learn to shoot a bow from horseback."

"Really?" The boy finally has a smile on his face.

"The Dothraki's, a tribe from the Essos continent, beyond the narrow see, their boys learn when they're four year old. Why shouldn't you?" Luwin explains, taking the opportunity to get Bran's attention again.

.

Back in her bedroom, putting down the book Maester Luwin gave her to read, Ylliria's eyes fall on the little piece of paper she prepared this morning. She sits in front of her table, slowly sliding the vellum to her and taking some ink with the tip of the quill in the little pot. She starts to write a few lines with her so recognizable round handwriting. When she finishes, she rereads it waiting for the ink to dry. She takes the small strip, one hand on each side, staring at it for a moment and finally putting one of the corners against the flame of her candle. Little by little, the paper catches on fire, erasing the words one by one, till even the 'My Dearest Jon' disappears.

.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18: Escapes.

Lady Stark and Rodrik Cassel are now escorted for their return journey to Winterfell by four of the Knights and their squires met in the inn. Tyrion Lannister is tied up on his horse and rides in the middle of them.

The Kingsroad they are following passes through a little forest in the middle of a region called 'The Neck'. They make a halt in a small glade near a rivulet to have something to eat. One of the squire is taking the horses to drink when suddenly he is knocked down by a thrown stone coming from behind the hill on the other bank. Immediately, the Knights and their men are grabbing their swords and position themselves in a circle, protecting Lady Stark and the dwarf. "It's an attack by highwaymen... Those woods are filled with them." The Knight of House Bracken yells at everybody.

"My Lady... Untie me. I can be useful. I won't run. Where can I possibly go around here? " Tyrion pleads.

She cuts his ropes and makes a sign with her head to Rodrik to give him a weapon.

The group is now surrounded by the bandits, still hiding behind the trees encompassing the glade. A huge roar suddenly comes from all sides at the time, running men rushing to their target. The confrontation starts. Rodrik, his sword steady in his hand, ready to strike, stays close to the Lady Stark, looking all around to find a breach in the circle to put her in a safe hiding spot.

Tyrion is quickly disarmed and pushed down on the floor. When the assailant lifts his sledgehammer to crush the dwarf's scull, a man dressed all in black pierces him through and through with his sword. He helps the little man to stand straight. "What is your name, my friend?" Tyrion asks.

"Bronn."

"From which House?"

"I have no house. I'm a Sell-sword working for House Bracken."

"Well Bronn, I have to thank you. And whatever Lord Bracken is paying you, I double it!"

The man in black suddenly pushes the dwarf away to engage a new fight with the lad arriving in a loud scream towards them. His sword blocks the guys' ax and his elbow swings against his jaw. The back up movement gives him the opportunity to slit his throat.

"What were you saying, My Lord?" Bronn comes back near Tyrion.

"I was saying, would it be possible for you to lead me out of here and escort me back to King's Landing?"

The man in black bursts into laughter.

"What did I say that might be so funny to you?"

"My assignment with Bracken is not finished yet."

Tyrion picks up a shield from the ground just in time to prevent another attack. He takes the oval shaped piece with both hands and swings it into his attacker's belly, then lifts it to knock him in the head. As he falls flat on the floor, the dwarf towers over his head and starts to smash it with the most sharpen part of the plate till its left nothing of a face. He throws the object away from him, making a disgusting mimic.

"You're first?" Bronn asks him, wiping away the blood on his sword.

"Yes... All right, I triple your wages."

"Done!" Bronn gives a slap on the dwarf's shoulder to confirm the deal, making him nearly tumble. "You stay behind me and try to keep up the pace." He says, grabbing Tyrion by his leather jacket.

Taking the advantage of the mayhem of the fight, both are taking to their heels, passing by the rivulet to take their horses and running off deep through the woods.

.

Ylliria enters the Main Hall after having send Bran and Rickon to Maester Luwin's study office. She sees Robb busy to read and sign some papers, sitting in front of the head table. She stands still in the door frame for a moment, enjoying the sight of him. His mid-long curled brown hair shining in the afternoon's light coming through the windows, the way he plays with his quill between his fingers, his face having that solemn look when he concentrates on his duty, the well-adjusted black leather doublet screeching each time he makes a move.

She slowly approaches, making just enough noise for him to notice her. He welcomes her with his radiant smile. "I'm nearly done. We could go for a ride afterwards, if that pleases you."

"Hum, hum." She just mumbles, sitting down on a bench below the platform.

"Something you want to talk to me about?" He lays down his quill and crosses his fingers together over the stack of papers.

"Nothing in particular. I am sorry if I distracted you from your work. That was not intended. Just do as I'm not there." She gently says.

"Too late for that, My Lady. It's really hard to ignore you when you are in front of me so beautiful."

"As I said, my intentions were not to dismiss you from your duties. I will leave now. Mend me when you're ready for that ride." She smirks.

"Not so fast!" He stands up, getting down the platform. "I start to know you well enough and you had something in mind when you entered here." He gently smiles, taking her hand and kisses it.

Without another word, she drags him along, out of the hall and up the stairs to her bedroom.

"Where are you taking me? Is there something wrong with Bran?" Robb asks her, still running behind her.

Arrived at her room, she opens the door, slams it close when they have both entered, pins Robb against it and passionately kisses him. "Hum... And what was that for?" He whispers, stroking her hair.

"Just an insane urge." She softly answers, kissing him again. She takes his hand and makes it travel from her belly to her round breast.

"Ylliria... Ylliria... Wait..." He gently moves her away.

"What? Don't You like it? Is it not something you boys are desperately waiting for?" She says a bit surprise of Robb's gesture.

"No!... I mean, yes!... I would lie to pretend it's not something I don't like or don't want to do with you? But, it's just... We should better wait. I want to do this right. We are still young and there is no rush, right?"

"I thought that if you were waiting too long for my consent you would be tired of me." She pouts.

"Oh, by all the Gods, no. I will never push you to do things like that. I do love you and because I do, I'll wait."

"I suddenly feel totally ridiculous and humiliated."

"Nothing is more sweet to me than you having sudden urges." Robb softly laughs and takes her in his arms, kissing her again.

_._

At King's Landing, Lord Ned Stark receives an anonymous message advising him that if he wants to know why the previous hand was murdered, he should carefully read the certain book from Maester Pycelle's library.

Intrigued, he asks the Grand Maester about it.

"This is a very boring book, My Lord." He says, hoping Ned would tell him why he needed it.

"I just need it to check a legal document the King gave me." Lord Starks lies.

Pycelle turns towards his old bookshelf and looks amongst the dozen of volumes piled up. "Oh! Here it is. 'The Lineages and History of the great houses of the Seven Kingdoms'. " He grabs a long shaped one with both hands and drops it heavily on his desk.

"Thank you, Maester." Ned says taking the book with no other explanations.

He goes back to his office and starts to read. On every page, a detailed description is given from each ever born of the most important families in the Seven Kingdoms since the Old Ages. He looks for the Baratheon's lineage. After an hour of reading, Lord Stark claps the book shut. "I don't even know what I'm suppose to look after. And what is the link between Jon Arryn's death and this book?" He asks himself.

Jory, Lord's Stark captain of his guard and his right hand man, enters his chambers. "My Lord, Lord Varys wants to have a word with you. He says it's important."

"Let him in." Ned orders while Jory makes way to let the eunuch enter. "Please, have a seat, Lord Varys."

"Thank you, My Lord. I have been told that you have requested a very particular book to Grand Maester Pycelle."

"News travels fast around here." Lord Stark comments, pouring him a glass of wine.

"I have a lot of little birds whispering in my ears." Lord Varys purrs. "May I ask you this sudden interest for the King's family tree?"

"No, you may not." He harshly answers.

"I could help you to find out what to look for exactly."

"So, you're the one that has send me this?" Ned showing him the little piece of paper.

Varys smirks, but doesn't confirm. "Those descriptions in this book are so detailed. You could draw very accurate portraits from all the family members of each House. And see what they would have looked like."

"My Lord, why did you request this meeting?"

"Just to warn you not to trust anyone around here and stay as discreetly as possible on your findings. The truth is sometimes very hard to find, but when discovered it could be a dangerous thing that has to be manipulated with care."

"And why should I trust you?"

"Because, I'm afraid to be the only friend you have in King's Landing." He stays up and quietly leave Lord Stark's office.

Ned opens the book again and starts to reread the Baratheon's physical descriptions. "Lord Orys Baratheon, black of hair. Axel Baratheon, black of hair. Lyonel Baratheon, black of hair. Steffon Baratheon, black of hair." He recites, turning the pages. "Robert Baratheon, black of hair. Joffrey Baratheon, golden head." He stops reading, slowly closing the book, suddenly understanding what Lord Arryn was after and why he died knowing it. "By all the Gods..." Lord Stark whispers.

.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19: Everyone's desire.

At the Wall, the long-awaited day by some of the recruits has finally arrived. The Lord Commander is doing his speech in front of the ones that are about to swear the oath.

"You came to us as outlaws, poachers, rapists,killers, thieves... You came alone in chains. Without friends or honor. You came to us rich. You came to us poor. Some of you bare the names of proud Houses. Others only bastard's names or no names at all. It does not matter. All that is in the past. Here, on the Wall, we're all one House tonight!..."

Sam bends towards Jon. "You're allowed to look happy, you know. You're going to be a ranger. Is it not what you always wanted?"

"I want to find my uncle. He is alive out there. I know he is."

"I really wish I could help you. But, I'm no ranger. It's the steward's life for me."

"It's an honor to be a steward." Jon nods.

"Not much, really. But, there's food!" Sam smirks, making his friend finally smile.

"... Here, you begin anew." The Lord Commander goes down the stairs to get closer to the new recruits. "A man from the Night's Watch lives his life for the realm. Not for a King or a Lord or the honor of this or that House. Not for gold or glory or a woman's love..."

At that moment, Sam gives Jon a nudge with a little smirk. The young man just shrugs and rolls this eyes to the sky.

"... But for the realm!" The Commander raises his voice. "And all the people in it. You all learned the words in your vow. Think carefully before you say them. The penalty for desertion, is death!" The old man pauses to let them all meditate what he just said. "You can take your vows here, tonight at sunset. Do any of you still keep the Old Gods?"

Jon raises from the bench. "I do, My Lord."

"You want to take your vow before a Hart-Tree, as your uncle did?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"You find a Weirwood a mile North of the Wall... And your old Gods too, maybe." Mormont sniggers.

"My Lord?" Sam standing up too. "Might I go as well?"

"Does House Tarly also keep the Old Gods?" The Commander asks, a little bit surprised.

"No, My Lord. I was named in the light of the Seven. As my father was and his father before him."

"Why would you forsake the Gods of your fathers and your House?" Sir Alliser Throne suddenly intervenes.

"The Night's Watch is my House now. The Seven never answered my prayers. Perhaps the Old Gods will." He courageously answers to the Master-at-arms.

"As you wish, man." The Commander tells Sam. "You're all been assigned an order, according to our needs and your strengths." He unrolls a paper and starts to name each new recruit and their new assignment.

Pyp and Sam go to the Stewards, Grenn and Rast to the Rangers. "Jon Snow, to the Steward..." Mormont reads from the list. When he hears his new function, his smiles disappears from his face. His friends are looking at him and their Commander, not understanding that decision. Jon stares at Alliser Thorne, standing on the balcony grinding at him.

"May all the Gods preserve you." The Lord Commander finishes his speech, letting each head of groups call their new recruits.

.

Bran is woken up by Hodor bringing him his new saddle. "Will it work?" The young boy asks the giant.

"Hodor!" He says with a big smile, shaking the piece.

"Come on, help me to get dressed. I need to see my brother Robb immediately. I'd like to test it right away." Bran joyfully comes.

Hodor puts down the saddle and grabs the clothes that the boy is pointing at.

"Robb? Robb?" Bran calls from the stairs.

"Bran Stark, what in the name of the Gods is so important that you have to yell the whole Castle awake?" Ylliria reprimands him.

"Where's my brother?" He nervously comes.

"Still in his bedroom. What is it?"

"The saddler, he finishes my new saddle. And I want to go for a ride."

"Out of the question! The young horse is not sufficiently trained yet. And he doesn't know your voice either."

"Oh, please Ylliria. Just a small one. And Robb and Theon could come with me. Please, please, please." He pleads, making her his most wonderful puppy-eyes and his brightest smile ever.

"You little devil!" She kisses his forehead. "Well, you will have to wait till Robb is awake."

"It's done! How can you possibly sleep when you have a screaming goblin hurtling down the stairs." His brother gently squeezing Bran's ear. "Hodor, sit Bran on the table for his breakfast." He orders the half-wit. "We'll talk about it while eating." Robb says to his little brother.

"Oh, thank you, thank you."

"I said, we'll talk about it. Not that we're going yet!" He teases him, winking at Ylliria.

.

To gathered evidences of his discovery, Lord Starks decides to pay a visit to the known Robert's bastards living in town, to talk with their mothers. The last one is just a baby girl and the mother a young whore with golden hair.

"She looks like him don't she, My Lord? She got his nose and his black hair." The girl says, showing him the baby sleeping in her arms.

"Aye." Ned simply answers, giving him all the proof in the world he wanted.

"Tell him when you'll see him, My Lord. If it pleases you, tell him how beautiful she is."

"I will..."

"And tell him, I've been with no one else. I swear it, My Lord. By the Old Gods and New. I ask no jewels or nothing, just him. The King was always good to me." The beautiful blond sweetly speaks.

"When Jon Arryn came to visit you, what did he wanted?"

"He wasn't that sort of men, My Lord. He just wanted to know if the child was happy and healthy."

"She looks healthy enough to me. The girl would miss for nothing." Ned smiles, before taking leave from the young woman. He rejoins his right hand man, Jory and exits the house.

Outside, twenty of the Lannister's guards are surrounding the street. On his white horse, Jaime Lannister dismounts and approaches Lord Stark, his hand on the handle of his sword.

"Stay back, this is the Hand of the King." Jory warns.

"Was the Hand of the King. Now, I'm not sure what he is? A Lord of somewhere very far away."

"What's the meaning of this, Lannister." Lord Stark asks.

"I'm looking for my brother. You remember my brother, don't you, Lord Stark? Blond hair, sharp tongue... Short man."

"I remember him well."

"It seems he had some trouble along the road. You wouldn't know by any chance what happened to him, would you?"

"He was taken at my command. To answer for his crimes."

Jaime Lannister draws his swords, giving the silent order to his guards to point their spears towards the two men in front of them. "Come, Stark! Glad that you'll die sword in hand."

"If you're threatening My Lord again..." Jory intervenes.

"Threatened? As in, I'm going to open your Lord from balls to brains and see what's Starks are made of?" Jaime grins.

"You kill me, your brother is a dead man." Ned says.

"You're right." Lord Lannister turns towards his men. "Take him alive and kill the other one."

Lord Stark grabs his sword and cuts the first guard in front of him in half. Jory also gets rid of two of Lannister's soldiers. Ned having now three other guards around him. Jory could fight through and stands in front of Jaime. Their swords cross, Lord Stark's man pushing hard towards Lord Lannister. Unexpectedly, Jaime raises his left hand with a dagger and pierces his opponent's face the whole way through, the tip of the blade coming out on the other side of his scull.

Ned sees his right hand man collapsing dead on the ground and stops fighting. Jaime approaches, his sword pointed in front of him, while his men are surrounding them. The hand-to-hand fight starts, both of equal strengths. Suddenly, one of the guards pierces Ned's thigh from behind. Lord Starks falls on his knees. He tries to stand up again, but couldn't due to the spear still driven in his leg. Jaime mounts his horse again and with a gesture of his head orders to his men to withdraw. "I want my brother, Lord Stark. I want him back now!" He says before leaving.

.

Bran cries out in delight, making circles around his brother and Theon in a small glade in the woods.

"Not too fast!" Robb orders him, a large smile on his face.

"When are you gonna tell him?" Theon asks.

"Not now!"

"Blood for Blood, my friend... You need to make the Lannisters pay for Jory and the others."

"We're talking about war."

"We're talking about justice."

"Only the Lord of Winterfell can call in the Bannermen and raise an army."

"Lannister put a spear into your father's leg and ran away from the Capital. The King-slayer will be untouchable if he stays in Casterly Rock under Tywin's protection."

"You want me to march on Casterly Rock?"

"You're not a boy anymore, Robb. Those bastards attacked your father. They already started the war... It's your duty to represents your House when your father can't."

"And it's not your duty, because it's not your house." Robb suddenly raises from the trunk they were sitting on and starts to look around. "Where's Bran?"

"Don't know... It's not my house!" Theon flings, walking away into the woods.

.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20: Wounds of the flesh, Scars of the soul.

The oldest Guard of the Night's Watch, a seventy year old blind man, stands in front of his new freshly nominated Stewards. He starts to call them one by one. "Samwell, you will assist me in the rookery and in the library." He says with a trembling voice. "Pyp, you will report to Bowen Marsh in the kitchens and Jon Snow, the Lord Commander Mormont has requested you for his personal steward."

"Will I serve the Lord Commander's meal and fetch water for his bath?" He asks in a virulent way.

"Certainly! And keep a fire burning in his chambers, change his sheets and blankets daily and do everything else the Lord Commander requires of you."

Jon goes towards the blind man. "Do you take me for a maid?"

"We took you for a man of the Night's Watch. But, perhaps we were wrong in that."

"May I go?" He flings.

"As you wish!"

Jon pushes is friends and angrily walks away, soon followed by Sam and Pyp.

"Jon! Wait!" Sam calls him when he enters in one of the storage cellars. "Don't you see what they are doing?"

"I see Sir Alliser's revenge, that's all! He wanted it and he got it! Stewards are nothing but servants. I'm a better sword's man and rider than any of you! It's not fair!"

"Fair?" Pyp chuckles. "I was singing for a high Lord when he put his hand on my leg and wanted to see my cock. I pushed him away and he said he had my hands cut off for stealing their silver. And now, I'm here at the end of the world, with no one to sing for than old men and little shits like you. I'll never see my family again and I'll never be inside a woman again. So, don't tell me about fair!"

"I thought you were caught stealing a wheel of cheese for your starving sister?" Sam comments.

"Cause I would not tell to a bunch of strangers how a Lord wanted to grab my cock!"

"Could you sing me a song, Pyp? I'd like to hear a song." Sam gently smiles. Pyp shakes his head in dismay and prefer to leave. "Now Jon Snow, you listen to me. You will be day and night, with the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. Yes, you'll clean his clothes. But, you'll also take his letters, attending at meetings and squire for him in battle. You'll know everything, be part of everything. And he asks for you himself, that would probably mean he wants to groom you for command!" Sam explains.

Jon starts to realize how foolish and pretentious he was. "I just... I always wanted to be a Ranger."

"And I always wanted to be a wizard." Sam smirks, making his friend burst into laughter. "What? I'm serious." He puts a gentle hand on his friend shoulder. "So, will you stay and say your words with me?"

.

On his first ride with his new saddle, Bran wanders away a little bit further than expected. He nevertheless gently continues to lead his horse through the woods, his nose in the air, so happy to feel the wind on his face again. He crosses over a little river down a small hill. Suddenly his mount starts to make erratic movements, like it senses some danger around. Bran makes it stop and starts to look all around him. He is quickly surrounded by three men and a woman dressed with rags. The young woman grabs the horse's harness to hold him still. "All alone in the deep dark woods." She says with a vicious tone.

"I'm not alone... My brother is with me." He courageously says.

"I don't see him... Do you hide him under your cloak?" The older man speaks with a husky voice.

"Ouh! That's a pretty pin." The woman looks at the Tully emblem in a shape of a fish hooked on his doublet. "Silver!"

"We'll take the pin and the horse... Come on, get down!" The man orders Bran. "Be quick about it." He raises his voice as he does not see the boy moving.

"I can't... The saddle, the stripes." Bran shows them.

"What's wrong with you? You're some kind of cripple?"

"I am Brandon Stark of Winterfell. If you don't let me be, I will have you all killed!" He steadily alleges.  
The man starts to cut the stripes with his worn-out knife and accidentally injured the boy, making a gash in his thigh.

"We could maybe keep the boy and ask for a ransom. A Lord's boy must worth its weight in gold." The young woman proposed.

"We don't have the time for that. We need to head south!"

"Drop the knife!" A firm man's voice suddenly comes from behind them. "Let him go and I may let you live." Robb says, drawing his sword from his sheath.

One of the men grabs his ax tight and rushed towards the Lord, ready to chop. Robb stops his move, crossing his sword with the handle. With a swift movement, he pushes the lad that loses his balance and slits the blade across his throat. He quickly gets rid of him before streams of blood pouring out of his wound spatters on his clothes.

In the meantime, the older man tries to throw Bran from his horse. The boy resists the best he can, throwing pushes here and there.  
The young woman armed with a club, gives a blow on Robb's left arm that unsettles him for a second. But, he rapidly swings his sword again, obliging her to move back. He takes that advantage to grab her hair and forces her to kneel next to him, when the third man launches his attack, his two arms in the air, holding a mace. The Lord's blade penetrates his belly, making him instantly stop and falling flat on the ground.

The old man surrounds Bran with his arm, his knife against his throat. "Drop your sword now!" He orders Robb.

"No!... Don't!" Bran whispers.

Slowly, Robb squats and puts his sword down. But, the old man suddenly grunts, letting loose of Bran and dropping his knife; the tip of an arrow coming out of his chest. When the man slumps on the ground, Robb sees Theon behind a tree, his bow in his hands. He approaches, putting another arrow on it and bending it to aim at the young woman.

Robb rushes to his little brother. "Are you all right?" He asks, but sees the cut on his leg.

"It doesn't hurt." Bran answers while Robb is taking him in his arms.

"Tough little lad!" Theon smirks.

"We'll ask Ylliria to make some stitches and put some healing plaster on it."

"What about her?" Theon pointing at the slattern.

"Give me my life, My Lord." She begs, crawling towards Robb. "And I am all yours."

"What is your name?"

"Osha, My Lord."

"We're keeping her alive and brings her back to the Castle." He decides, obliging Theon to withdraw his arrow.

.

After the highwaymen' attack in the middle of the Neck's woods, two of the knights are dead, Tyrion Lannister's has escaped with Bronn and Rodrik Cassel is found injured.

"Rodrik, this wound needs stitches and some clean bandages." Lady Starks tells the Winterfell's Master-at-arms, knelled next to him, his head on her thighs.

"My Lady, do not worry. Just help me get back on my horse and I'll be able to ride you home."

"Out of the question! You'll bleed to death. We're not far from my sister's Castle at the Vale. We'll stay there for a few days, till your wound has closed up."

Rodrik grunts from the pain when the only man still alive and Catelyn are helping him to stand. With difficulties, he mounts his horse, handing his reins to the Knight.

.

Within sight of the Vale's Castle, a small group of riders are coming to meet them.

"My Lady, my name is Sir Vardis Egan, Knight of the Vale... Is Lady Arryn expecting your visit?"

"There was no time to send word. We were attacked in the Neck's wood and my Master-at-arms is badly injured" Lady Stark explains, pointing at Rodrik. "He needs rapid care."

"If you please will follow me, My Lady." The knight turning his horse around and escort the squad to the Castle.

Lady Arryn is waiting for her sister in front of the Main Door. "Catelyn, what in the Seven Heavens happened to you?" She runs towards her sister and takes her in her arms.

"Oh, Lysa... You wouldn't believe. Can you please urgently fetch your Maester? Rodrik has been injured and he has lost a lot of blood."

"Of course." She claps in her hands and immediately servants are rushing in the courtyard. "Bring this man to Maester Colemon... You, escort this Knight to one of our guest's bedrooms and pour him a bath... Groom, you take those horses and look after them." A dozen of 'Yes, My Lady' later, Lysa grabs Catelyn by the arm. "You will now tell me what you are doing on the roads with no escort." She leads her inside her Castle.

.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21: The newcomers.

Back at Winterfell Castle, Robb help Bran to dismount and carries him inside. "Ylliria!" He calls.

She rushes out of the kitchen. "What is it? What happened?" She asks when she sees blood on Bran's clothes and the gust on his leg. "Did he fall?"

"A gang of Wildlings attacked me while I was riding in the woods. But, fortunately Robb and Theon found me right on time and killed them." Bran explains while Robb is making him sit down on the table.

"What? You let him ride alone?" Ylliria looking at Robb.

"He escaped my attention for just a minute." He says for his defense.

"Let me look at this." She tears up the tissue.

"It does not hurt." The young boy smiles.

"It does not mean it can't turn ugly if we do not heal it. You stay put. I'll fetch what we'll need to take care of this."

"Is she mad?" Bran whispers to Robb. His older brother nods. "But it's really nothing!" He insists.

"It's not the wound she's mad about. It's the fact that you could have been killed. Bran, you have to be more careful and listen to your elders. I know that our woods are not known for its dangerousness, but you never know. Circumstances can make people do horrible things." Robb lectures him.

"What I'd like to know is why behind the Wall Wildlings are wondering in our woods?" Ylliria asks, coming back in the room.

"Going south, they said." The boy answers.

"Hum…" She mumbles, taking a fresh cloth soaked with vinegar and swabbing the gust with it.

"I'm sorry, Ylliria. I did not mean to worry you." Bran softly apologizes.

"I am worried about you! I knew it was not a good idea to let you ride so soon."

"But, I didn't fall from my horse. The saddle works fine." He pleads.

"Bran." Robb frowns, silently asking him to go easy on Ylliria.

Without another word, she takes a needle and some silk thread, delicately closing the wound and wraps his tight with a clean bandage. The elder requests to Hodor to take the young boy back in his bedroom for him to rest till supper.

"I'll prepare him a fortifying and a mild sedative later, so he'll have a good night sleep." She says, hiding her tears.

"Hey, come here." Robb gently takes her by the sleeve and pulls her in his arms.

Ylliria slowly parts from him, suddenly noticing a young woman standing outside. "And who is she?"

"Her name is Osha. She the Wildling I spared."

"And what are we going to do with her?"

"She can help at the kitchen or anywhere you see fit for her."

"She tried to rob and kill your brother and you want me to trust her on anything around here?" She speaks between her teeth, so the Wildling wouldn't hear.

"I've put her in chains. And I'm sure she won't harm anyone. She's just a lost child."

"Robb, I admire the goodness of your heart. And in many cases, it is a quality. But, don't you think that keeping her around here is a little extreme." She calmly says.

"Just talk to her, Ylliria. You'll see that she isn't a bad person. I could see it in her despite the circumstances, why shouldn't you?"

Ylliria's nods and goes out. "Osha, I am Lady Bennett. Are you hungry?" She asks, still a little tensed.

"Yes, My Lady." The young woman softly answers.

"Come with me. Let's see if Belinda has still some soup and bread left. And we'll also try to find you a spot where you could sleep."

"Thank you, My Lady."

.

At sundown, Sam, Jon, Ghost and four of the confirmed brothers are taking the tunnel to the other side of the Wall. As soon as the heavy door opens, the Direwolf starts to joyfully run across the snowed field.

In front of the Weirwood, Sam and Jon knee to swear the oath. "Here my words and bear witness to my vow. The night gathers and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands and father no children. I shall ware no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the shield that Gods have surrounded men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come."

"You knelt as boys... Rise now as men of the Night's Watch." One of the old brothers claims.

Jon helps Sam to stand on his feet and they both hug each other, making the others smile. Then, they congratulate their two new brothers of the Night's Watch.

Jon's Direwolf suddenly appears from behind the trees, bringing his master a strange present.

"What he got there?" Sam asks.

"To me, Ghost! Bring it here." The young man orders to his animal. It let its catch drop in front of them.

"By the Seven's!" His friend curses when he sees it's a man's hand and wrist it found.

.

Osha is busy to change the old and dry rush from her bunk with a fresh bale. She hears boots steps coming her way.

"You are a very lucky girl, you know that?" Theon alleges. She nods. "Where I come from we don't show mercy to criminals. Where I come from, if someone like you attacked a little Lord, we would have tied you up, hands and feet, on the beach at low tide. Waiting for the sea to coming closer and closer... You would see death creeping towards you inch by inch."

"Where's you come from?" She asks.

"The Iron-Islands"

"Are they far away?"

"You never heard of the Iron-Islands?"

"Trust me, you wouldn't have heard where I come from neither."

"Trust me, My Lord." He comes closer. "You're not living in the wilderness anymore. In civilized lands, you answer to your betters using their proper titles."

"And what's that?"

"Lord!"

"Why?"

"What you mean, why? My father is Balon Greyjoy, Lord of the Iron-Islands."

"What's that got to do with you? If you're father's Lord, how could you be Lord too?"

"I will be Lord after my father."

"So, you're not Lord now." Osha cuts him off.

"No… You... You having a go with me? Is that it?"

"Just try to understand how you Southerners are do things."

"I'm not a Southerner."

"You're from South of the Wall. That makes you a Southerner to me."

"You are a little impudent wench, aren't you?" He knees next to her.

"I couldn't say, My Lord. Don't know what 'impunent' means."

"Impudent... It means rude, disrespectful." He surrounds her waist with an arm, pulling her closer to him. "Do you want to lose those chains?" He whispers in her ear.

"Theon Greyjoy!" Ylliria calls him when she enters the place. "The Lady is our guest!" She stands stiff, her two hands joined in front of her.

"Thought she was our prisoner." The young man says a bad look in his eyes.

"She will be treated, like we are treating you, Theon."

Feeling humiliated by her remark, Theon turns around and leaves the room.

"Chances are I won't be near by the next time that happens." She gently says to Osha.

"I'm used to worse than him, My Lady. I know men that could chew that boy up and pick their teeth with his bones."

"Charming... May I ask you a question, Osha?" Ylliria sits on a step near the young Wildling. "Why did you come here?"

"Didn't mean to come here, My Lady. Meant to go much further South that this, as far South as South goes. Before the long night comes."

"Why? What are you afraid of?"

"There are things that sleep during the day and hunt at night."

"A lot of animals are doing that..."

"I'm not talking about animals, My Lady."

"Maester Luwin told us that the... Things you speak of... They have been gone for thousands of years."

"There weren't gone. They were sleeping. And they aren't sleeping no more." She mysteriously says.

"You are worse that Old Nan and her frightening stories." Ylliria softly laughs.

"Because mine aren't stories, My Lady!"

.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22: A Very Special Name Day.

"Do you feel like going for a ride after this morning council, Ylliria?" Robb asks her while taking their breakfast.

"Well, I have things to settle with Belinda. Now that she is pregnant, I'd like to lighten up her duties and relocate them between the other maids. There are also the seasonal workers to take care of and…"

"Can't all those things not wait for a few hours? There is something I'd like to show you."

"Show me what?"

"You will have to come with me if you want to find out." He maliciously says.

"What is on your mind, Lord Stark?" She smiles.

"Oh, not what's in your at the moment, Lady Bennett."

She gently throws a loaf's crusty end at him, slightly blushing.

After the council, Robb gives orders to prepare their horses. While she's in her room getting on something more appropriate for ridding, Robb rushes in the kitchen. "Belinda, will you have enough time to prepare everything while we're gone?" He asks the maid.

"Yes, My Lord. We prepared a lot in advance. It's all hidden in the cellar. It will be set before you'll be back."

"Does she suspect anything?"

"The Lady does not have a clue, My Lord." She winks.

"Perfect."

Robb waits for Ylliria in the courtyard, casually whistling a joyful tune.

"So, you're still not gonna tell me where we are going?" She tries.

"Nay! Mount!" He gently order her.

Leading the way, he relentlessly chats, hoping he could avoid any of her questioning.

"All right, Lord Stark. You stop right there! Where are we going?" She finally asks him.

"It's a surprise."

"A surprise?"

"Don't spoil it!" He smiles.

"This is the way to the Brooker's Farm, isn't it?" She comes, guessing from the road they are taking.

"You really cannot stop doing this, do you?"

"Sorry, I just can't help it." She smirks.

.

They're effectively arriving at the farm. "I knew it!" She whispers, letting out a little laugh.

"Welcome, My Lord… My Lady." Ewin, the Brooker's father, cheerfully greets, holding their rains while they dismount. "If you please, follow me." They enter the stable and stops in front of one of the boxes where a beautiful chestnut coated foal is sucking at his mother's teat.

"It was born three days ago." Robb says.

"It is so adorable!" Ylliria exclaims.

"You will have to find it a name."

"A name?"

"Hum, hum." He nods. "Because it's yours now."

"Mine? But…"

"Happy Name Day, My Lady Bennett!" The young Lord bows.

"Oh, Robb! I don't know what to say?"

"Well, starting with a 'Thank you' would be..." He cannot finish his sentence because she wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him, totally forgetting Ewin's still with them. "That was more than I expected." The young Lord laughs.

She can't resist any longer and opens the box. She kneels near her foal, reaching out a hand, waiting for it to come to her. It sniffs the tip of her fingers, shyly approaching. It makes another step forward, gently rocking his head towards her. She lightly pets its neck, letting the animal getting used to her scent. It stamps its fragile hoof on the ground, till finally it comes snuggling its muzzle in her auburn hair, making her giggle.

"I know how to call him… Whisper." She joyfully says to Robb, tenderly smiling at her.

"It will have to stay with its mother for another six month till it's weaned, My Lady. But, you may come to visit any time. And be sure I will let him get used to his name." The peasant says.

"Isn't it absolutely beautiful?" Ylliria softly hugging Whisper's neck.

"As beautiful as its new owner." Robb smiles.

"Thank you for this wonderful gift." She finally comes out of the box.

On their way back to the Castle, Ylliria is inexhaustible about her foal. "Oh, I can't wait to tell Bran and Rickon about Whisper." She says when they finally see Winterfell at the end of the road.

Robb snickers at the thought that she is not at the end of her surprises today.

.

Jon, Sam and the brothers are coming back from the Sacred Wood, towing two dead bodies on a sleigh. They stop in the middle of Castle Black's courtyard, everybody gathering around it.

"It's Othor, without a doubt." The Lord Commander alleges.

"The other is Jafer Flowers, My Lord. Less the hand the wolf tore off." One of the brothers says.

"Any sign of Benjen or the rest of his squad?"

"Just these two, My Lord. And dead awhile, I'd say."

"The smell." Sam suddenly comes.

"What smell?" The brother asks.

"There is none. If they'd been dead for a long time, wouldn't they be rot?"

"We should burn them." Jon says.

"Snow is not wrong, My Lord. Better doing it the Wildling's way." The brother approves.

"Maester Aemon need to examine them first... You may be a coward, Tarly, but you're not stupid. Get them inside." The Lord Commander orders.

"Lord Commander." A man calls from the balcony. "Maester Aemon waits for you in his chambers. A raven, from King's Landing."

.

The Young Lord Stark lets Ylliria enter first in the Great Hall.

"Happy Name Day!" The in unison voices from Bran, Rickon, Maester Luwin, Theon and Belinda welcome her, gathered around the table filled with food, drinks and flowers.

"Oh, by all the Gods!" She freezes for an instant.

"Happy Name Day, My sweet Lady." Robb kisses her cheek and leads her to sit at the head of the table.

"I really don't know what to say? This is so…" Ylliria comes, still stunned.

"Well say nothing and drink this!" Belinda hands her a glass of wine, making them all laugh.

.

They have a joyful supper all together. Ylliria receiving presents from all her guests. Even Grey-Wind, Robb's Direwolf puts down a small package at her feet. "Is this for me, Grey?" She gently pets the animal. It pushes it a little bit more towards her with his nose. "Well, let's see what this is then." She unwrap it and discovers a long wine colored lined with gold silk scarf. "Thank you. This is lovely." She kisses the Direwolf's head.

"Grey chose it himself to match one of your gown." Robb says.

"Really? I must say, you have an unfailingly good taste, Grey." She takes one of its paws and sways it as she was giving it a handshake. It lets out a happy yawning little cry and goes back laying between his master's feet.

"Well done, my boy." Robb whispers at his wolf. "It's getting late, bothers. Time for bed now!" He tells Bran and Rickon that are, for once, complying without a single protest.

"I will take care of them, My Lord." Belinda says, calling for Hodor and leading them up the stairs.

"If you would also please excuse me, I will withdraw for today and head to my chambers." Maester Luwin comes. "My Lord." He bows.

"Thank you so much for this wonderful surprise, Maester Luwin." Ylliria tells him.

"It was my pleasure, My Lady." He gently kisses her hand.

Robb clears his throat, giving Theon a side look, his friend still busy to leisurely sipping at his tumbler.

"Oh!... Hum… Well, it's not that I'm bored of your company, but I still have a few things to settle before going to sleep. So, I beter leave." He suddenly rises from his chair. "Ylliria, again, a very Happy Name Day!" He says, taking her hand an softly kisses it.

"Thank you, Theon. It was really a happy one." She gently smiles at him.

When they are all gone, she turns her face to Robb. "You have sent them all away, isn't it?"

"I plead guilty!" He sits next to her. "I wanted to have a moment alone with you. And give you a last present."

"Another one? Robb, this is way too much already."

"This one is slightly special." He pushes in front of her a little black velvet bag. He sees her hesitating. "Take it, it won't bite!" He lets out a small laugh.

She solwly caresses the tissue, looking at Robb, uncertain of really wanting to know what it's hidding inside it.

.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23: Call all the Bannermen.

Ylliria ends up to untie the ribbon that closes the little bag and turns it upside down. In the palm of her hand falls a ring. She takes it between her fingers, scrutinizing it. It's a thick silver ring with an open mouthed Direwolf's profile, serounded with little rubies. "Robb, it's a Stark ring." She whispers.

"Yes, it is." He smiles. "Ylliria, I'd like you to be part of this family. I'd like that you to be the mother of my children. I'd like you to stay beside me for the rest of my life."

"Robb." She puts down the ring and gently strokes his cheek. "I have no land, no dowry, barely a title. This alliance would bring nothing to your family and to your name." She softly explains, her eyes slowly moist with tears.

"I don't want more land, we have more that we can handle. And wealth never brings more hapiness, I know. I don't care about another title, a Lord has already enough responsabilities as it is. I don't want an alliance, Ylliria. I want a true marriage filled with love."

She looks deep in his eyes to see how serious his proposal is. He does not flinch. She slowly reaches out a trembling hand towards him. Robb's takes the ring and slides it on her middle finger. "I will send a raven to King's Landing tomorrow morning to request my father's permission."

"You do not have it yet? But, you're suppose to..."

He gently presses a finger across her lips. "For me, the most important answer was yours and no one elses." He takes her face between his hands and softly kisses her.

_._

At Casterly Rock, Jaime Lannister, that has flee King's Landing after the Lord Eddard Stark's attack, is in front of his father, reading a summary of the bill of indictment that he received by a rider. "Bla bla bla... Summoned to court to answers for the crimes perpetuated against the Hand of the King... Hum... Arrive within the fourth night not to be declared an enemy of the Crown." He rolls up the paper. "Poor Ned Stark. Brave man, terrible judgment." He grins.

"Attacking him was a stupid move. Lannisters don't act like fools." Lord Tywin Lannister says while tearing apart a stag he killed during his morning hunt. "What have you to say for your defense?"

"Lady Stark has Tyrion."

"And so... Why is he still alive?"

"Who? Tyrion?"

"Ned Stark, you idiot!" He flings, stinking his sharp knife into the table and rubbing his hands on a cloth.

"One of our man interfered, hurting him before I could finish him."

"Huh!" Tywin scoffs. "If I were you, I wouldn't bother too much about those accusations anymore."

"And why is that?"

"It seems your sister provided for your safety. I received a raven from the Capital. King Robert is dead."

"How?"

"Ironic... During a hunt." He points at the stag, now devoid of his skin. "He got injured by a wild boar's tusk, slicing his prominent belly. The wound was deep and he lost too much blood to be saved." He grins. "Oh... And Lord Stark is now under arrest."

"On what charges?"

"Treason!"

"I must confess, Cercei has a twisted mind on her own. I'll ride back to King's Landing immediately."

"No! I want you to get Tyrion away from that Tully Lady's clutches. That's what I want you to do!"

"But..."

"It is your brother, he is a Lannister and I want him back!" Tywin's voice sounding like thunder. "Not to mention that the Stark elder boy will probably gathering an army to march South. Better anticipating his moves and be stopped before he reaches the Neck!"

"You're worried about a Northern fledgling that never killed a single man in his entire short life? Give me just a third of the size of his army and I will squash him like a vulgar fly!" Jaime says, making a simple gesture of his hand like it was nothing.

"Hum..." His father stares at his son. "I give you 30.000 men. Used them as it suits you to accomplish both missions. Not to say, to succeed!"

"Thank you, Father." Jaime respectfully bows before leaving the tent.

.

Jon is preparing his Lord Commander's supper. The old man looks at him, rereading the message a raven had brought earlier that day. "Snow, bring me a horn of ale with my supper and poor one for yourself."

Jon complies and puts down the tray on the table near Mormont. He waits till the young man drinks his first sip. "The King is dead." He announces.

Jon stops drinking. "Is there any word of my father?" He dares to ask.

"Sit, my boy!" The Commander orders. "Lord Stark, your father, has been charged with treason. They say he conspired with Robert's brothers to deny the throne to Prince Joffrey."

"What? That is ridiculous!" He can't believe his ears and stretches out his hand to Mormont to ask him the paper so he can read it himself. He briskly stands up without a word and goes for the door.

"I hope you're not thinking of doing anything stupid. Your duty lays here now, Snow." Mormont says.

"My sisters were in King's Landing too." Jon makes a stop, the handle in his hand.

"I'm sure they'll be treated gently."

.

In Winterfell, Robb has receives the same kind of message. "Treason?" He says with incomprehension. "Sansa wrote this?" He asks Maester Luwin standing next to him.

"It is your sister's hand, but the Queen's words. You are summoned to King's Landing to swear fealty to the new King." Luwin explains.

"Joffrey puts my father in chains and now he wants his ass kissed?" The young man utters.

"This is a Royal Command, My Lord. If you should refuse to obey..."

"I won't refuse. His Grace summons me to King's Landing, I'll go to King's Landing." He folds the piece of papers between his hands. "But, I won't go alone... Call the Banners!" He orders to Maester Luwin, making Theon smirk.

"All of them, My Lord?" The old man slowly asks.

"They all swore to defend my father, have they not?"

"They have."

"Well let's see what their words are worth."

"As you wish, My Lord." Luwin leaves the room to prepare the messages he will send the ravens with.

Robb slowly sits back on the bench.

"You're afraid?" Theon asks him.

He raises a shaking hand. "I must be..."

"Good!"

"Why is that good?"

"Means you're not stupid."

.

From the window of her bedroom, Ylliria suddenly hears dozens of ravens cawing and flying away from the Castle in all directions. She quickly stands up, rushes out of her room and down the stairs to the Main Hall where Robb and Theon are still.

"I saw the ravens... What is happening?" She worriedly asks.

"Theon, please leave us alone for a moment." Robb asks his friend.

"Sure!" The squire smirks before leaving the place.

"Ylliria, please come sit with me."

"Robb... Something is wrong, isn't it?"

"King Robert Baratheon is dead." He slowly says, reaching out his hand across the table to take hers. "They say my father conspired with Robert's brothers to deny the throne to Prince Joffrey. And they imprison him."

"They… What?" She comes, dumbfounded.

"I just called up the Banners to march on King's Landing and get my father and my sisters back."

"That means war and..." She whispers.

"I know. We have to delay our wedding, I'm afraid. But, nothing changes. It's just a matter of a few months."

"Oh Robb, I'm not worried about our wedding... I'm worried about you going to war. You, going to fight against Lannister's army of trained soldiers, outnumbering any other army in the Seven Kingdoms."

"But, I won't be alone." He lets a soft smile.

"Don't joke about..." She raises her voice.

"Don't be mad, My Love." He presses her hand a little bit more. "We also have experienced warriors in our Bannermen. And Northmen are hard to kill. I don't even know if we are going to actually fight. I just want my father to be released and my sisters safe on their way home. To all return in Winterfell."

She suddenly starts to tremble, fear taking over reason. He changes seat to be on her side and takes her in his arms. "I know. Don't be afraid. This won't take long and I promise to be back alive. And we will be married soon after. We will have the most beautiful wedding of all times in the whole North!" He tries to comfort her.

.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24: Marching South and Dead walking.

Lady Stark rushes up the stairs towards her sister's private chambers. "You had this since dawn?" She flings, showing her a raven's message in her hand.

"It was sent and addressed to me, not you. I just show it to you as a courtesy."

"A courtesy?" Catelyn yells. "My husband has been taking prisoner. My son intents to declare war."

"A war? You're sure? Your son against the Lannisters?" Lysa scoffs. "Well, you should run to him and teach him patience."

"Ned rots in a dungeon and you speak of patience? He is your brother by law. Does family means nothing to you?" Lady Stark continues still furious against her sister.

"Family means everything to me! And I will not risk my only son's life to get caught up in another of your husband's wars." Lysa explains.

"You will not support us then? Do I understand you correctly?"

"You and your children are always welcome here, sister. But, if you're asking me to send men from the Vale to fight..."

"That is what I ask." Lady Stark approaches her. "Lysa, if you fear for the safety of your son..."

"Of course I fear for the safety of your son! Are you an idiot? They killed my husband. You say they thrown your boy from a window. These people will do anything."

"And that is why we have to stop them."

Lady Arryn slowly rises from her chair and stands in front for her sister. "The Knights of the Vale will stay in the Vale where they belong to protect their Lord!"

.

In Castle Black's kitchens, Sam is busy to pluck a chicken, while Pyp is making a soup and Jon cutting slices of meat with a sharp blade.

"Now, there is a rare sight. Not only a bastard, but a traitor's bastard now." Sir Thorne taunts, arriving in the room. The young man stares at him for a moment, when suddenly he raises his knife and jumps to stab Alliser with it.

"Jon, no!" Sam yells while Pyp holds him back.

"Stop! Put it down!" Grenn orders him, taking him by the other arm and pinning him against the table.

"Blood will always tell. You'll hang for this, bastard!" Thorne menaces him before leaving the place.

Jon goes free of his friend's holds and puts his doublet back straight. He sees Lord Commander Mormont looking at him from the back of the Kitchens and slowly approaching. "I told you not to do anything stupid." He heavily sighs. "You're confined to quarters. Go!" He orders him.

.

The Bannermen Noble Lords, their right-hand men and their squires are all gathered in Winterfell's Grand Hall to feast before marching South to free their liege Lord Eddard Stark. Robb arrives with Ylliria on his arm. They all rise at their entrance and lightly bow when they passes by.

At the table placed in the center, Robb makes her sit on his left, next to Bran. Theon is on his right, showing for all to see that Greyjoy is his right-hand man. And as usual, Grey-Wind goes gently laying on his feet.

Ylliria feels a little bit intimidated to be the only woman around, Robb puts a reassuring hand over hers.

"Lady Bennett." Lord Umber, a giant that his men gently calls 'Greatjon', starts. "I hope Lord Stark won't take umbrage on what I am about to say. But, last time I saw you, you were no higher than my knee... Well, maybe it was my calf." He lets out a little laugh, making the other laugh too. "When I see you today, you have grown a fine and beautiful young woman."

"Thank you, My Lord." She respectfully nods her head. "I've been told you knew my father well."

"Yes, we fought side by side in many occasions. He was a great warrior, a generous man and a loyal friend. I mourn him still. And the Gods bare me witness, your father would be very proud to see you sitting here at this very table. And I will ask to all the gentlemen around you to behave and mind their tongues tonight." He turns his head around the room. "Did you all heard that?" He yells.

"Aye!" They answer in unison.

"I might as well, remind myself that." He guffaws, again followed by everybody.

Robb lifts her hand and kisses it. "I surely know my luck." He softly says, making her blush.

.

Jon is laying across his bed after his Lord Commander has confined him in his quarters. Ghost is restless, it paces from the young man's bunk to the door of his room, crying and howling. It suddenly starts to growl, waking Jon up. "What's wrong? Is someone out there?" He asks. The animal continues to growl and bares his teeth. Jon takes his sword and opens the door. Ghost directly runs through the balcony hallway, rushing to the Lord Commander's chambers. It stands straight on his forelegs and scratches at the door. "Commander?" Jon calls before opening it. "Stay!" He whispers to his Direwolf when he goes further in the apartment. "Hello? How's there?" He calls again. The place looks empty; he nevertheless has one hand on the handle of his sword and the other on his dagger. He sees a half-open door at the rear end. "Lord Commander?" He calls once more. When suddenly the door behind him closes in a loud clap. He turns around to see Othor, the dead man they brought back from the other side of the wall a couple of days ago, coming towards him.

.

"For thirty years, I'm been making corpses out of men, boy. I am the man you want in the vanguard." Lord Umber thunders.

"Galbert Glover will lead the van." Robb firmly stands.

"The bloody wall will melt before an Umber marches behind a Glover!" Greatjon starts to yell around. "I will lead the van." He insists. "Or I will take my men and march them home."

The young Lord's gaze suddenly hardens and he lets go of Ylliria's hand. "You are welcome to do so, Lord Umber. And when I am done with the Lannisters..." He slowly rises from his chair, Ylliria worriedly looks at him, but keep silent. "I will march back North. Root you out of your Keep and hang you for an oath-breaker." He threatens him.

"Oath-breaker is it?" The Lord screams, throwing his chair away, making some other Lords standing up too. "I'm not sitting here and swallow insults from a boy so green he pisses grass." He wants to go for his swords, but before he could move it an inch out of its sheath, Grey-wind climbs on the table, runs all along it and jumps on Lord Umber, making him fall on the ground. They all hear the Direwolf snarling, a snap and a loud yell. The Lord goes slowly up, holding one of his hands with the other.

"My Lord father taught me it was death to bare steel against your liege Lord. But doubtless, the Greatjon was only meant to cut my meat for me." Robb softly smiles, showing to all that despite his young age and his father absence, he rules this assembly.

"Your meat?" Umber tries in a last-ditch stand, panting. "Is bloody tough!" He calmly says, showing his hand with now two missing fingers and starts to chortle. Robb joins him in laughter, followed by the other Bannermen.

"Why are they all laughing?" Bran bends close to Ylliria.

"I don't know, My Dear. But, happy to know I'm not the only one around asking the same question. I don't have a clue what just happened either." She whispers back.

.

The Bannermen's feast is finally over, Ylliria is pacing around in her bedroom, a thoughtful look on her face. Despite Robb's promise he would come say goodbye before leaving tomorrow, she cannot let him go away just like that.

She suddenly grabs a sleeveless tunic from her trunk and puts it over her nightgown. She goes in front of her mirror, takes her brush and starts to untangle her long auburn hair. She puts them in a ponytail, but changes her mind and just let them loose over her shoulders. A last look at her reflection, pinching her cheeks to a nice shade of pink and she opens her door as silently as possible. She looks left and right in the hallway. All seems to be quiet. She tiptoes in the corridor to Robb's bedroom. She takes a deep breath and puts a hand on the iron-circled handle.

Inside, Grey-wind suddenly goes up, softly chirping. "What is it, boy? What did you hear?" Robb looks at his Direwolf, continuing to pack his belongings. The animal gently walks to the door, making the young man turn around. "Ylliria?" He says a bit surprised by seeing her in his room. She lets the wolf go out before closing the door.

She slowly march towards him, letting her tunic fall on the floor and untying the knots of her nightgown one at each step she makes. He just stares at her, unable to move or say a word. She finally faces him, her dress' barely covering her body anymore. She gently smiles, stroking his cheek and softly kisses his lips.

"Are you sure?" He whispers, slowly taking her in his arms.

"I never was so sure in my entire life."

.

Othor is pinning Jon against a wall, strangling him. "That cannot be." The young man struggles to reach his sword. Ghost, barking, growling and bouncing against the closed door, tries to enter. Jon finally catches his dagger and starts to stick the man's flank several times. Useless, Othor twists his wrist to make him drop the weapon. Jon swings him a head, making him do a few steps back and gives the young man time to remove his sword out of its stealth. With his first swing, he cuts clean through a part of the man's arm. Nonetheless, the dead continues to move towards him. Jon points his sword in front of him, finally impaling him through and through. Othor falls flat on the floor, the blade in his belly.

"Snow?" Mormont calls, holding a lantern.

"Commander?" Jon rejoins him, turning his back on the corpse.

Ghost is still making a lot of noise behind the door, when Jon turns around he sees the dead man rising again, getting rid of the sword in him and ready to march on both men. Jon grabs his Commander's lantern with his bare hand and throws it at him, putting him into flames. He pushes his Commander into the other room, while the man starts to scream, the fire quickly spreading on his entire body.

_._


	25. Chapter 25

****WARNING** This chapter has adult contains **WARNING****

Chapter 25: Alone and in charge

Ylliria grabs Robb's shirt-tails, lifts the piece of clothing above his head and letting it fall on the floor. She takes his hands and gently leads them to her shoulders. He slowly slides her nightgown of her body and starts to kiss her eyes, her nose, her cheeks, going down to her neck, his hands slowly discovering her soft skin. He lifts her up and lays her down across the bed. He quickly gets rid of this trousers and covers her body with his, their kisses becoming more and more avid and passionate. His mouth goes down again, exploring her delicate neck, her frail shoulders and her round breast. Ylliria softly moans, her hands tangled in his brown curls.

Robb entwined his fingers with hers and lifts her arms above her head. Slowly making his way back up, he looks deep into Ylliria's eyes, trying to find any signs of doubt or withdrawal, only he could find was determination. He delicately spreads her legs with his; lifting one of her knee up to his waist to make sure he won't hurt her too much and slowly penetrates her. She lets out a small hiss at his first thrust, taking a deep breath while he takes her maidenhood. And after a few gentle back-and-forth of his hips, a warm feeling starts to run through her entire body, making her heart racing. She sticks her fingers deep into his back, holding him like he was the last hold before emptiness. He quickens his pace, making both their breathing shorter. He buries his face into her long auburn hair, whispering her name over and over till he climaxes, letting his body resting on hers. She gently kisses his temple, hugging him tight. He slowly lift his head, locking his eyes in hers before taking her lips again.

Robb carries Ylliria with him while he flips on his back. She happily nests on the hollow of his shoulder, one hand caressing his chest. "I couldn't just let you go like that." She whispers.

"I know."

"Promise me you won't do anything foolish during this campaign to the South and let the real warriors do the battles."

"Ylliria..." He goes up on his elbows. "I am Lord Stark's heir and head of the Bannermen. What kind of leader would I be if I hide behind my men?"

"I just ask you to be careful and wary. I already lost so many loved ones."

He gently takes her back in his arms, his hand stroking up and down her arm. "You will be in my thoughts every day. You will be my shield, Ylliria." He softly says.

"I don't want to lose you, Robb."

He puts a finger under her chin and lifts her head to kiss her again. "I am yours and you are mine." He whispers.

"And I am yours and you are mine." She echoes, holding back her tears.

Suddenly they hear soft knocks on the door, making her shiver afraid that someone might burst in.

"Don't worry. It's just the signal that we are on the move." Robb's gently going up.

"Already? I was hoping to have you a little longer."

"We decided to leave unexpectedly to discomfit the enemy." He explains, getting dressed.

She covers herself with the bed-sheet and helps him to attache his cloak. "May the Gods protect you and send you home to me with haste." She removes the chain with a locket she has around her neck. "Take this with you, as much as for protection than for you to think of me sometimes."

"How can I forget about you, My Sweet at Heart." He puts it in his doublet and kisses her a last time before leaving the room. She jumps back into his bed, just to keep a little longer his smell around her.

_._

After Othor's attack in Lord Commander's quarters, the Wall brothers finally decide to burn the two corpses.

"They were twist by White-walkers." Sam suddenly says. They all looking at him. "That's why they came back. That's why their eyes turned blue. Only fire will stop them."

"How did you know that?" Jon asks him.

"I red it about in a book. A very old book in Maester Aemon's library."

"What else did the book say?"

"The White-walkers sleep beneath the ice for thousands of years. And when they wake up..." He leaves the rest of his sentence pending.

"And when they wake up, what?" Pyp insists, a light angst in his voice.

"I hope the Wall is high enough." Sam looks at it, making them all turn around to watch it.

.

Robb slowly enters Bran's bedroom and sits on the edge of the bed. He gently shakes his little brother's shoulder to wake him up.

"What is it? What's happened?" Bran fearfully asks.

"Chhh... It's all right."

"Where are you going?"

"South, for father."

"But, it's the middle of the night."

"The Lannisters have spies everywhere. I don't want them to know we're coming."

"They have more men than we do."

"Aye. They do."

"Can't I come with you? I can ride now, you've seen me riding. And I won't get in the way, I..."

"There must always be a Stark in Winterfell. And till I return, that will be you. You are not to leave the Castle while we are gone, do you understand?" Robb severely says.

The boy nods.

"Listen to Maester Luwin. Look after your little brother. And take care of Ylliria for me. She will probably be very sad for a while, so do the best you can to cheer her up, will you?"

"I will."

"I'll send letter whenever I can. But, if you don't hear from me, don't be scared." Robb ruffles in his little brother hair. "Till I return." He finally says before leaving his room.

.

Rickon appears at the door step a few minutes later.

"How long have you been hiding out there?" Bran asks him. "Robb would be looking for you; to say goodbye."

"They've all gone away." He sadly says.

"They'll be back soon. Robb will free father and they come back with mother."

"No, they won't." The little boy turns around to leave the room.

"Rickon, come here." Ylliria takes his hand and leads him back in Bran's chamber. "What Bran says is true." She lays him down next to his brother and sits on the other side. "And during his absence, we need to stay together and be strong. You are both Starks and the whole household and the people around needs leadership." She gently explains to the two boys. "Maester Luwin and I will help you the most we can, but you will need to take the decisions. And I trust you to take these duties head-on."

"Are you not sad that Robb is gone?" Rickon says with his high-pitched little voice.

"Sure, I am. But, knowing that we'll be all together again soon, gives me courage." She does her best to hide her tears. "They will all come back home safe, we'll pray the Gods for that, all right?" She leans her head on Bran's shoulder, putting her arm across both of the boys.

"You have the right to cry, Ylliria." Bran comes, gently stroking her cheek, already taking his role seriously.

"Thank you, My Lord." She sighs.

They all fall asleep in that same bed, clinging together to find the strength they'll need to face the next few months.

.

Tyrion Lannister and his new companion Bronn, on their way to Lord Tywin's camp around Casterly Rock, are going along the foothills of the Mountains of the Moon, where the barbarians of the Hill Tribes live. The dwarf casually whistles a happy tune.

"Will you shut up!" Bronn suddenly comes.

"Am I bothering you?"

"No, just pointing out at your Highness that we are in no safe grounds around here. And that I'm not ready to die just yet." The sell-sword clinging at the handle of his blade. "Maybe I should just take your food and leave you here."

Tyrion just grins.

"You don't think I'll do it, do you?"

"What do you want, Bronn? Gold? Women? Golden women? Stick with me an you'll have them all. For as long as I'm around and not a moment longer. But, you knew that, do you?" He gives him a slap on his thigh, since he can't reach his shoulder. "And that is why you so valiantly took up arms to defend my honor."

"Fair enough." The man in black shrugs. "But don't go look into me to bend the knee and 'My Lord' you every time to take a shit. I am not your toady and I'm not your friend."

"And I'm not looking for one either. I'm mainly interested in your facility with murder. And if the day ever comes where you would be tempted to sell me out, remember this: Whatever their price, I'll beat it! I like living!" Tyrion starts to whistle his tune again.

All of a sudden, Bronn pushes the dwarf aside, on the slope of the hill. "Stay low! And shut the hell up!" He whispers. Not too far away from them, they hear footsteps approaching.

.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26: It depends which Gods you're praying at.

Ylliria is praying in front of the Weirwood near the pond. "Please watch over Robb and watch over all the Bannermen from Winterfell following him. And Theon too, I suppose."

Osha slowly approaches. She looks at the Lady, sitting on the flat stone, her fingers crossed and hands on her chest. When she is close enough, she also sees her tears running down her cheeks.

"Do you hear them answering? The Old Gods always answer, you know." She softly says to Ylliria.

"How do you know that?" The Lady wipes off the wetness of her face with her sleeve.

"They are my Gods too, you know. Beyond the Wall they're the only Gods." She caresses one of the branches with respect. "And even slaves are allowed to pray."

"You are not a slave, Osha."

She shows her the chains she still has around her ankles.

"Well, one of your friends tried to slit the little Lord's throat."

"I'm not complaining, My Lady. Just telling truth."

"What were you saying about the Gods that are always answering?"

"You asked them, My Lady and they'll answer you. You just have to listen, open your ears to it." She lifts her gaze to the top of the tree.

"It's just the wind between the leaves." Ylliria comments.

"And who do you think sends the wind if not the Gods?" Osha lightly laughs, making her laugh too.

They suddenly hear some heavy footsteps coming from behind them. It's Hodor carrying Bran on his back.

"I knew I would find you here... Robb told me all your hiding spots." He says with a deep voice, wanting to age himself.

"Are you giving me an ear full, Little Lord?"

"My brother asked me to watch over you and that is what I'm doing. Next time I'd like you to inform me before you're leaving the Castle." He speaks with a serious tone.

"Aye, aye, My Lord." Ylliria gently smiles at him.

"With My Lady's permission, I will go back to the Castle now." Osha bows and goes her way back.

"Osha?" She calls. "Thank you." She mouth.

"Hodor, make me sit next to the Lady Bennett." He orders the giant. "What were you doing here anyway?"

"I was praying to the Old Gods."

"For Robb?"

"And his host."

"I didn't have the chance to tell you this before, Ylliria, but I'm really happy that you will become my sister."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Arya and Sansa are not as smart and funny as you."

"Well,thank you for the compliment, but I'm sure that when your sisters will grow older, you will change your mind about them." She smiles, putting an arm around him.

"It's more than three weeks now and we still didn't hear from my brother."

"I know, but he told you that he would write whenever he could. And a raven can always be intercepted and gives information to the enemy. So better not take that risk, don't you think?"

"Aye, but still..." He clings a little bit more to her. "Ylliria, don't tell anybody, but I'm scared."

"I'm scared too, Bran. But, together we'll pass through this. And we have good people around us that will keep us safe and will support us no matter what." She slowly rocks him, looking at the Sacred tree asking for some more strengths.

.

Tyrion and Bronn are on the lookout, waiting for the footsteps they hear coming to them. The black man has put out his swords out of its sheath when out of the darkness, men are walking towards them.

"When you meet your Gods, you tell them Shagga, son of Dolf of the Stone Crows send you." A huge man, wearing a helmet decorated with wild-boar tusks, darkly says.

"I'm Tyrion, Son of Tywin of clan Lannister." The dwarf speaks.

"How would you like to die, Tyrion, son of Tywin?"

"In my own bed, at the age of eighty, with a belly full of wine and a girl's mouth around my cock."

The barbarian guffaws. "Take the half-man, he can dance for the children. And kill the other one." He orders his men.

"Wait, wait! My House is very rich and very powerful. If you escort us through this mountains, my father will shower you with gold."

"We have no use for half-man's promises." Shagga growls.

"Half-man maybe, but at least I have the courage to face my enemies. What do the Stone Crows do? Hide behind rocks and shiver when the Knights of the Vale ride by? Are those the best weapons you could steal?"

They all starts to look at the axes and sticks they have in their hands.

"Good enough for killing sheep, if the sheep don't fight back." Tyrion continues his speech. "Lannister's smiths shit full of steel."

Shagga slightly touches the dwarfs face with his ax, making him a cut, showing him how sharp it is. "You think you can win us over with your trinkets?"

Tyrion takes off the heavy silver ring from his middle finger, the ring from his House with a lion's head and hands it to the chief of the Stone Crows. "That trinket is worth more than everything your trip earns. But, if you help us, Shagga, son of Dolf, I will not give you trinkets. I will give you this." He opens wide his arms.

"What is 'this'?" The barbarian asks.

"The Val of Arryn. The Lords of the Vale are always spit upon the Hill Tribes. And the Lords of the Vale want me dead. I think it's time for new Lords of the Vale." Tyrion speaks slowly and as clearly as possible to be sure Shagga will understand exactly what he wants him to think.

_._

Maester Luwin and Ylliria have chaired the Winterfell's morning council and are discussing the general matters of the estate. "Tomorrow it's Rickon's Name Day. I'd like to make something special to cheer him up. He has a hard time dealing with the three quarters of his family spread around the Kingdom." Ylliria advises Luwin when the last requester has left the Hall.

"I think that everyone around here could use a bit of the comfort." The Maester's sadly answers.

"I'll see what we can set up with Belinda." She closes the House book and puts away her quill.

"We should insist to Bran to siege the council, My Lady. He needs to act as the Lord of Winterfell during his father and elder brother's absence."

"I know, Maester. I already talked with him about it, but he claims he's too young and feels ignorant of all the things that have to been taking care of. I think he is mostly afraid of the responsibilities of the decision taking part."

"I'll have a conversation with him, later today." The old man was about to leave the Great Hall.

"Maester Luwin?" She calls him. "Did you receive any letter or raven from Lord Stark?"

"No, My Lady. I'm sorry." He gently bows.

She desperately sighs and goes for the kitchens.

.

Tyrion, Bronn and their new allies are in sight of Lord Tywin's Lannister's camp.

"It the half-man betrays us, Shagga, son of Dolf, will cut of his manhood and..."

"Feed it to the goats, yes, I know." The dwarf cuts him. "All right, time to meet my father."

They enter his father's tent. "Tyrion, the rumors of your demise where unfunded." Tywin says, not showing any emotions.

"Sorry to disappoint you, father."

"And who are these... Hum... Companions of yours?"

"This is Shagga, son of Dolf, Chieftain of the Stone Crows. Timett, son of Timett, Ruler of the Burnedmen. This fair maid is Chella, daughter of Cheyk, Leader of the Blackears. And this is my friend, Bronn... May I present My Lord father, Tywin, son of Tytos of House Lannister. Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West." He lists. "Kind of you to go to war for me." He insolently tells his father, having a seat without permission and going for a jug of wine.

Tywin grabs it out of his hand. "You left us no choice. The honor of the house was at stake. Your brother would never have meekly submitted."

"Jaime and I have our differences. He is braver, I'm better looking!"

"He's been covering himself in glory. Jaime smashed the River Lords at the Golden Tooth and now lay siege to Riverrun, Catelyn Stark's homeland." Tywin speaks with pride.

"And the Starks? Lord Eddard?"

"He is our hostage, locked up in a dungeon's cell. He is not the one leading. His older son has called his Banners and is moving South with a strong host. The Green-boy." The Lord scoffs. "One taste of battle and he will run back to Winterfell with his tail between his legs."

"Maybe." The dwarf whispers, swallowing all that new information. "But the boy does have a certain belligerence. You'd like him. Also, he must be full of impetuousness, eager to show his Lady how a brave Knight he is."

"His Lady?"

"Yes, it seems he has a fondness for the Lady Bennett."

"Harry's daughter?"

"Hum, hum."

"I should have killed her when I had the opportunity." Tywin mumbles between his teeth.

.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27: Confessions and Decisions

Just before entering the kitchen to have a talk with Belinda, Ylliria just couldn't hold her tears anymore and prefers running down in the cellar. She sits on a barrel of wine, back to the door and starts to weep. Thinking she was alone down there, she didn't see Belinda behind one of the grain shelves.

"My Lady?" The kitchen-maid calls and rushes near her. "Oh, My poor Lady!" She takes her in her arms. "Don't cry, please don't cry. I know it's hard to bare, but you need to be strong. The Lord will come back soon."

"I thought I was alone in here. I don't want anybody to see me like this." She sobs.

"Oh, come on, you know you can trust me."

"I know, Belinda... I know... How are you by the way?" She wipes away her tears.

"I'm in a great shape. Never been so healthy in my entire life!" Belinda gently tapping on her round belly.

"Good. That is good... Hum, I was thinking to make some special supper for Rickon's Name Day."

"I already thought of that, My Lady. That was what I was looking here. To make that apple and peer pie for dessert. I know that little one just loves it." She puts a hand on Ylliria's shoulder, as she always do when she's going to talk serious matters. "So, nothing you want to tell me about? Starting with why all those tears today, My Lady?"

The young woman takes a deep breath. "I think it's a little bit of everything together, I guess. Robb's departure for war. Lord Stark's imprisonment. Lady Stark away from home for so long. No news from Jon since he left for the Wall. The responsibilities of this House. Not that I'm complaining about that last one. I just do my best to spare Bran and Rickon of that burden." She plays with her Stark ring.

"Hum. I understand that all those things can be overwhelming for a Lady once piled up. But, you should look for the strength that those ordeals have in them."

"I'm not whining about my faith, Belinda!" Ylliria says a little stung by her last remark.

"I didn't meant to offend you, My Lady. I'm sorry." She gently smiles.

"I'm sorry too. I am a little bit on edge lately. Let's talk about something more pleasant, will you?"

.

Lady Stark and Rodrik Cassell finally arrive at Robb's encampment. "Summer snows, My Lady." The Master-at-Arms comes when he sees traces of white in the green field.

"Robb brought the North with him." The Lady softly smiles, gently taping her heels on her horse's flanks to make him go down the slope.

"The River Lords, they are falling back with Lord Jaime Lannister on their heels." Robb tells his men, standing around the table full of maps in his tent. "And Lord Tywin is bringing around a second Lannister Army from the South. Our scouts confirm it's even larger than the King-slayer's." He bends a bit, putting his fist on the edge of the desk.

"One Army or two, the Kings in the North threw back home hosts ten times as large." Lord Umber explains. Suddenly they all raise when Lady Starks enters the tent. "Mother!" Robb happily says, going to hug her but stops his gesture realizing that he is the head of an Army now.

"You look well." She comes.

"Lady Catelyn, you're a welcome sight in this trouble times." Lord Umber.

"We thought not to meet you here, My Lady." Theon adds.

"I have not thought to be here. I would speak with my son, alone. I know you will forgive me, My Lords."

"You heard her! Move your arses! Come on! Out!" Greatjon yells. "You too, Greyjoy, you're bloody deaf?" He takes his arm and escort him out. "Have no fear, My Lady. We'll shove our swords in Tywin Lannister's bunghole and then it's on to the Red Keep to free Ned." He says just before greeting Rodrik. "You old Devil, Rodrik!"

.

"Belinda, I'm sure there is something else you want to ask me." Ylliria gently smiles at her friend, still sitting on her barrel.

"In fact, yes, there is... But, I don't know if I will dare..." The maid seems suddenly embarrassed.

"Oh, come on! You never seemed reluctant to ask me delicate matters in the past. What could be so different today?"

"Because, you look different, My Lady."

"I look different? What do you mean?"

"You look like a woman now. Oh, wait..." She goes off her improvised seat, takes two wooden cups from a tray, cleans them with her apron, turns the tap from one of the keg laying on a shelf behind them, pours a little bit of strong wine in each one and hand one of the cups to Ylliria. "Bottoms up!" She joyfully comes before engulfing hers, imitated by the Lady.

"That will loosen up all the tensions, huh?" Ylliria laughs.

"Exactly! You want another one?"

"Nan, not right away... So, you were saying that I look more like a woman."

"Yes... Well, it's not a matter of age. It's just that you look more like a grown woman, I mean."

"And you think that all the things that happened lately could be the cause of that?"

"No, not exactly... Oh, by all the Gods, just say it!" Belinda scolds herself. "Did you and Lord Robb...?"

Ylliria finally understands what she means and directly blushes to a dark shade of red. "So, if you can see it, the others can to... Oh, no!" She says a little bit in panic.

"If you're talking about Maester Luwin, I don't think he has ever studied that kind of matters." She gently takes the cup from the Lady's hand and goes for the keg pouring two new small glassful of wine.

"I just wanted it to happen... And I suppose he wanted it too." Ylliria softly says.

"Oh, I don't blame you for it, My Lady. I'm very happy for you. The truth I say!"

"But, you think that we should have waited till we were married."

"Hum." The Kitchen-maid shrugs. "Us, woman, have the most to lose when it comes to this. A man just satisfy his urge and then goes his way with no or little consequences. We need to be more careful, because this could happen just by doing it once." She taps on her round belly again.

"Oh, dear! You think I might be pregnant?" The Lady's eyes suddenly widens, looking at her own stomach.

"When was your last bleeding?"

"Huh, huh... Let me think... Huh... Ten days after Robb's departure." She stutters with panic in her voice.

"You're safe then. But, if this should ever happen again, I will give you some tricks to avoid a little unexpected accident. Even once you'll be married, it can come handy. You never know." Belinda seriously comes.

.

Tyrion Lannister tries again to reach the tin jug of wine in front of his father. The old Lord finally pours his son half a glass. "You were always so generous, father."

"Why did you came here? Why not heading back to King's Landing?"

"Way to far for my little legs!" He jokes. "Not to mention entering the Capital with my... Ahum... New friends would not be... You know."

"Very well. But, we are on our way to war."

"Well, while we are at the subject of war, I made promises to my friends here. We shall require three thousand helmets and shields. Plus swords, piques, masses..."

"If it pleases My Lord." A man running inside the tent cuts Tyrion. "Sir Addam sends report that the Northmen have crossed the Neck."

"The Wolf rushes into the Lion's jaws. So be it..." Lord Lannister smirks. "Command the rally of the troops and send word to Jaime that I'm moving against Robb Stark." He orders to the man.

"At once, My Lord."

Tywin rises from his chair and faces the Barbarian Chiefs. "It is true that the men of the Mountain clans are great warriors. Ride with me against my enemies and you will have all what my son promised you and more."

"Only if the half-man fights with us. Till we hold the steel he pledges us, the little lion's life is ours." Shagga says with his low voice.

.

As everybody has left the tent, Catelyn can finally takes her son in her arms. "I remember the day you came into this world, red-faced and squalling. And now, I find you leading a whole Army."

"There was no one else." Robb says like an excuse.

"No one? Who were those men I saw here?"

"None of them are Starks."

"All of them are seasoned in battle!"

"If you think you can send me back to Winterfell..."

"Oh, would that I could." She parts from him. "Let me look at you... You have changed. What happened to you?" She softly smiles.

"The edge of battle, I guess." Robb laughs, trying to hide his embarrassment. "Hum... There was..." He searches for a paper in a leather wallet. "A letter from Sansa." He hands it over to her.

"From the Queen, you mean." She reads it and sits down. "There is no mention of Arya." She asks concerned.

"No."

"How many men do you have?"

"Eighteen thousand. If I go to King's Landing, bend my knee to Joffrey."

"You would never be allowed to leave, no! Our best hope, our only hope is that you can defeat them in the field."

"And if I lose?"

"Do you know what happened to the Targaryen's children when the mad-King fell?"

"They were butchered in their sleep."

"On the orders of Tywin Lannister. And the years have not made him kinder." She stares at him. "If you lose, your father dies, your sisters die... We die."

"Well that makes it simple then."

"I suppose it does." She sighs.

.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28: The Little Soldier

At Castle Black, it's snowing again. Jon, wrapped in his cloak, arrives in the Lord Commander's quarters. "When does Maester Aemon think you will be able to use that hand again?" Mormont asks him.

"Soon, he says." The young man looking at his burned and swollen palm covered with a bandage.

"Good." The Lord Commander grabs something from behind his fireplace. "You'll be ready for this then." He shows him a long sword and lays it on the table in front of him. "I thought that a wolf would be more appropriate for you than a bear." He softly goes over the handle with his fingers. "So, I had a new pommel made. It's called 'Longclaw'. Which is well suited for a wolf as a bear, I think." He grabs it again and hands it to Jon that still not fully realizes what is happening here.

The young man finally accepts it and delicately glides a part of it out of its black metal scabbard. "This is Valyrian steel, My Lord." He points out when he recognizes the sound that this particular metal does when it comes in contact with another material.

"It is." Mormont says, holding his arms behind his back. "It was my father's sword, and his father's before him. The Mormonts have carried it for five centuries. It was meant for my son when I decided to take the Black."

"Your son, My Lord?"

"Hum." The old man clears his throat. "Jorah brought dishonor to House Mormont, but he... Hum... At the grace to leave the sword before he fled from Westeros. But, the sight of it always remind me of the shame he brought upon us. So, it's better like this." He turns around.

"My Lord, you honor me, but I can't..." Jon humbly comes.

"Oh, you can... And you will!" Mormont cuts him. "I won't be standing here if it wasn't for you and your beast." He grabs a sandstone jar and pours himself a large glassful of wine. "You fought bravely and thought quickly. I should have remembered about using the fire! That bloody dead man tried to kill me. That sword is a small payment for a life. So, you'll take it and hear no more about it, understood?" Mormont concludes.

"Yes, My Lord."

"Fine. And don't think this means that I approve of this non-sense between you and Alliser Thorne. This is a man's sword you're holding, boy. And it takes a man to wield it." The Lord Commander sits down.

"I'll apologize to Sir Alliser tonight..."

"No you won't. I send him to King's Landing yesterday. The hand that your wolf tore of that thing's wrist, I've... Hum... Ordered Thorne to lay it to the feet of this Boy-King. It should gets young Joffrey's attention, I think. And... It puts a thousand leagues between you and Thorne... Now, put your sword somewhere safe and bring me my supper."

"Yes, My Lord." Jon bows and smiles before leaving the chamber.

.

Ylliria and Belinda are putting the finishing touches on the Name Day surprise supper for Rickon, checking that the table in the Great Hall is properly set. They have request to all the guests to be ready for sundown. Hodor carrying Bran is the first to enter, with his grand-mother Old Nan. Soon followed by Maester Luwin and Ailwin, Belinda's husband. Meachem the head of the Builders, Will the mason, Mikken the blacksmith and Tommy the barber were also invited, as well as Osha. "You are all welcome around this supper." Ylliria says when all are installed around the table. "Hoping we could, all together, make of Rickon's special day a day he could remember with a smile. At least, we hope that this gathering will also let us forget for a moment the trouble times we're living."

"Aye!" They all respond.

"Emma? Will you please fetch the King of this ceremony?" She smiles.

The maid comes back a few minutes later, out of breath. "My Lady, the little Lord is nowhere to be found."

"He must be hiding in the crypt again." Bran says, making the maid run again. Maester Luwin decides to search the stables and around the Castle.

After a long moment, both are coming back without the little Lord. Ylliria really starts to be beside herself with worry. "Call the Captain of the Guards." She orders to Maester Luwin.

"My Lady?" The Captain bows when he enters.

"The little Lord Rickon is missing. We don't know since when. We looked the whole Castle already. So, gathered all the men you can and starts the search at Winter-town, I know he likes it there. Check if there is no horse missing from the stables and go as far deep in the Sacred Woods. He knows his way around there. And he certainly is with his Direwolf. So, be careful, Shaggydog is a wild one sometimes. Please, go now!"

"Yes, My Lady. At once." He bows again and leaves.

.

"The scouts reports Lord Tywin moves North." Rodrik Cassel explains to the Lords around the table. "We need to get him on broken ground, put it's Knights at his disadvantage."

"No!" Lord Umber shouts. "We need to get around him and break Jaime Lannister's siege of Riverrun. Do that and the River Lords will join us."

"To do either we need to cross that river. And the only crossing is at the Twins." Robb looking at the map.

"Lord Frey controls that bridge. He is your father's Bannermen. It shouldn't be a problem." Theon adds.

"Hum, can we really trust him? I remember my father calling him the 'late' Lord Frey. At the trident, he didn't appear with his army till the battle was done. Some men take their oath most seriously than others." Lady Stark explains.

"But, My Lady, Robb is right. We need that bridge." Theon continues.

"So, what it's gonna be? Do we move against Jaime or Lord Tywin?" Lord Umber asks.

Two soldiers are dragging along a struggling man into Lord Stark's tent. "Your pardon, My Lords. We've captured a Lannister's scout." One of the soldier says.

Theon hurries to fold the map on the table.

"Don't worry, lad. He won't be leaving this tent with his head." Greatjon guffaws.

"Where did you find him?" Robb questions the soldier.

"In the brushes above the encampment. He looked to be counting."

The young Lord approaches the spy. "How high did you get?"

"Twenty thousand, maybe more."

"You don't have to do this yourself. Your father would understand." The Master-at-Arms comes.

"My father understands mercy when there is room for it!" Robb cuts Rodrik. "And he understands honor and courage." He stares at the men for a moment. "Let him go!" He suddenly orders.

"Robb?" His mother softly says. He turns around and looks dagger at her, making her lower her gaze.

He approaches the scout. "Tell your Lord Tywin that winter is coming for him and fast. Twenty thousand Northerners are marching South to find out if he really does shit gold." He whispers in his ear.

"Yes, My Lord. Thank you, My Lord." He respectfully bows before being pushed out the tent by the soldiers.

"Are you touched, boy? Letting him go?" Lord Umber is furious.

"Come on, call me boy again." Robb stares defiantly at the Lord. "Go on!" He makes a last step forward to face the huge man. Lord Umber finishes by turning around and leaving the tent, growling.

.

Rickon is now missing for hours. The Guards have widen their search beyond the woods and lager on both ways of the King's Road, north and south.

"They will find him, My Lady." Belinda tries to calm down Ylliria, pacing around the Great Hall.  
"If something happens to that boy, I would never forgive myself. Lady Stark and Robb have putting their trust in me to handle Winterfell during their absence. What a disappointment that will be for them when they will find out that I neglected their youngest son and little brother."

"Ylliria, it's not your fault. You know Rickon is like his Direwolf, a wild one." Bran comes, trying to comfort her too.

"I should have been more present for him. We knew he had a hard time since Robb left with his host."

"We all have a hard time, Ylliria." The young Lord sadly adds.

She sits next to Bran and puts a re-comforting arm around his shoulder, when suddenly the door flies open.

"My Lady, we found the little Lord marching on King's Road after the marking point South. And as you said, his Direwolf scampering next to him." One of the two guards, that surrounding the little boy, explains.

"Rickon!" She screams, running to him and taking him in her arms. "You made everyone worried sick. Are you hurt?"

"No, Ylliria, I'm fine." He says, his gaze on the floor.

"And what is that?" She points at a bundle he has in his hands. "Where did you think you were going?"

"Rejoining Robb and his Army. I wanted to help him save father."

"Oh, sweetheart!" She grabs him back in her arms, tears showing up in her eyes.

"We did a surprised supper for you Name Day, you idiot! You ruined everybody's feast!" Bran starts to yell at his little brother.

"Bran. Let us talk about that later and trying to still enjoying this meal, will you?" Ylliria calmly says.

"I'll go heating up the main course. Please everybody, take another cup of wine awaiting. We won't be too long." Belinda says around, making a gesture with her head to Osha and Emma to follow her in the kitchens.

.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29: One Mystery solved.

In front of the Twin Castle, Theon is shooting all the ravens that are flying away from it, to know what the messages contain. He brings Robb the last one he retrieved on the bird's foot. "It's a birthday message for his grand-niece Walda."

"Or that is what Lord Frey wants you to think." Theon says.

"Keep shooting them down." Catelyn orders the squire. "We can't risk Lord Walder send word of your movements to the Lannisters." She turns to her son.

"He is grand-father's Bannermen. We can expect his support." Robb pleads.

"Expect nothing of Walder Frey and you'll never be surprised... Look." Lord Umber points at two horsemen coming towards them.

"Father rots in a dungeon. How long before they take his head? We need to cross the Trident and we need to do it now!" Robb nervously comes.

"Just march up to his gates and tell him you're crossing. We got five times his numbers. You can take the Twins if you have to." Theon shrugs.

"Not in time. Tywin Lannister is marching North as we speak." Lord Umber says.

"The Frey's have held the crossing for six hundred years. And for six hundred years they have never failed to exact their toll." Catelyn looking at her son.

"Have my horse saddled and ready." Robb orders.

"Heads to the Twins alone, he sells you to the Lannisters as he likes."

"He'll throw you in a dungeon or slit your throat." Theon adds to what Lord Umber just said.

"My father would do whatever it took to secure our crossing. Whatever it took... If I'm going to lead this army, I can't sending my men to do the bargaining for me."

"I agree... I'll go." Lady Stark decides.

"Mother!"

"My Lady!" Rodrik comes at the same time.

"I have known Walder since I was a girl. He would never harm me."

"Unless there was a profit in it."

At that moment, the two soldiers have arrived in front of them.

.

Ylliria is tucking in Rickon. "Are you mad at me, Ylliria? Bran seemed very mad." The little boy says.

"We were all very worried, Sweetling. You shouldn't have leave on your own like that."

"Why does anybody tell me the truth then? It's only yesterday that I knew that Robb ask you to marry him. And that is just because I overheard a conversation. I'm always the last one to know about things."

She heavily sighs. "I'm sorry Rickon. We were just trying to protect you."

"I'm not a baby anymore, I have the right to know what is happening to my family!" He sternly says.

"All right. What would you like to know?"

"When is my father coming back home?"

"To give you an exact date, I can't. But, that's why Robb left, to have your father and your sisters returned safely."

"Why are they in danger? I though the King was my father's friend?"

"Unfortunately, King Robert is dead. And, to be honest with you, I do not know a lot in politics and how to rule a Kingdom. But, your father is for the moment unable to leave the Capital."

"See, you don't tell me the truth!" The little boy raises from his bed, yelling. "I know my father is in jail! And that is why Robb call the Bannermen!"

"Rickon, please calm down. All right, you want to play a grownup, you will. As per tomorrow morning, you and Bran will siege at morning council. And you will take decisions and make plans! You will also be aware of all new messages that will arrive at Winterfell. Does that suit you, My Lord?" She says in a reprimanding tone.

"Yes, this suits the Little Lord very well." He crosses his arms on his chest and raises his nose in the air.

"Now, it's time for bed and sleep. I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight, My Lord!" She blows out the candle and leaves the bedroom.

In the hallway she passes by Maester Luwin going in his quarters. "Remind me, Maester, to never have kids!" Ylliria tells him slightly irritated.

_._

"What do you want?" Lord Frey harshly asks, busy to paw a young girl's buttocks standing next to him.

"It is a great pleasure to see you again after so many years, My Lord." Lady Stark politely comes.

"Oh, spare me!... Your boy is too proud to come before me himself? What am I suppose to do with you?"

"Father, you forget yourself? Lady Stark is here..." One of Walden many sons remarks.

"Who ask you?" He cuts him. "You are not Lord Frey yet! Not until I die... Do I look dead to you?"

"Father, please..." Another one adds.

"I don't need lessons in courtesy from you, bastard! Your mother would still be a milkmaid if I hadn't squirted you into her belly!" Walden yells.

Lady Stark is quite shocked by so much vulgarity, but stays impassive, knowing what's at stake.

"All right, you come forward." He suddenly says to Catelyn, making a small gesture with his hand.

She slowly do so, a little bit worried on what he could do.

He takes her hand and loudly kisses it. "Heu... There! Now that I did observe the courtesy, perhaps my sons will do me the honor of shutting theirs mouths."

"Is there somewhere we can talk?" Lady Stark asks.

"We're talking right now."

"I insists."

"Fine! Out! All of you!" Lord Frey screams around, everybody suddenly leaving the room all at once. "You too!" He slaps on the girl standing next to him's bottom. "You see that?" He bends close to Catelyn, looking at the young woman going away. "Fifteen she is. A little flower." He runs his tongue over his lips. "And her honey is all mine." He grins.

"I'm sure she will give you many sons." Lady Starks says with some disgust in her tone.

"Ha! Your father didn't come to the wedding."

"He is quiet ill, My Lord."

"And not to the last one either or the one before that." Lord Frey goes close to the fire, trying to warm up his hands. "Your family has always pissed on me."

"My Lord, I..." She tries.

"Don't deny it! You know it's true. The fine Lord Tully would never marry any of his children to mine."

"I'm sure there were reasons why..."

"I didn't need reasons!" He cuts her. "I needed to get rid of sons and daughters. Did you see how they pile up!" He turns around and lifts his cloak to put his bottom to the fire. "Why are you here?"

"To ask you to open your gates, My Lord. So, my son and his Bannermen may cross the Trident and beyond their way."

"Why should I let him?"

"If you could climb your own battlements you would see that he has twenty thousand men outside your walls."

"That will be twenty thousand corpses when Tywin Lannister gets here. Don't try to frightening me, Lady Stark. Your husband is in a cell beneath the Red Keep and your son got no fur to keep his balls warm."

"You swore an oath to my father."

"Oh yes, I said some words. And then I swore oath to the crown too if I remember right. Joffrey's King now, which makes your boy and his corpses to be nothing but rebels, it seems to me. If I had the sense that the Gods give us fish, I hand you both over to the Lannisters."

"Why don't you?"

"Stark, Tully, Lannister, Baratheon... Give me one good reason why I should waste a single thought on any of you?"

.

The next morning, Ylliria as a little surprise for Belinda. She leads her maid to Theon's empty apartments. "It's not big and it might need a deep cleaning, but it will be more comfortable for you. Ailwin has less weight to carry that you lately, so lets him do the walk from the mill to the Castle, instead of you marching in the cold to your not yet finished home." The Lady happily says, making Belinda giggle.

"Thank you so much, My Lady. It will be perfect for sure."

"I'll help you change that little man's cave into something decent for a young couple."

The two women start by gathering together all Theon's belongings and putting them in several trunks. Suddenly, Belinda grabs a square thick paper, fallen from a folded shirt. She turns it around to reveal an unbroken seal of the Night's Watch. "My Lady?" She calls and hands her the letter.

"So, Jon wrote to Theon and not to me?" She comes a little annoyed.

"It was never opened, My Lady."

"You think I may...?"

"You have to."

"No, put it back... It was not addressed to me." Ylliria gives the paper back to her maid.

"My Lady, it wasn't addressed to anyone, so I don't see why you could not open it. You are acting as head of Winterfell household now." Belinda insists, putting the letter in the Lady's hand again.

.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30: Mysterious Message

Pushed by Belinda's urge, Ylliria finally decides to unseal the letter they found in Theon's belongings. She slowly unfolds it with trembling hands. "It is from Jon... And it is addressed to me..." She whispers, letting herself fall on the bed and starting to read.

"_My Dearest Ylliria. Hope this letter will find you in good health and well. Here at the Wall, I never thought the cold could be more cruel than in Winterfell. We are practicing a lot and I must say, not to put myself too much forward, that I am the best sword of the squad. Father can be proud, I do not dishonor the Stark's Name. I can't wait to swear the oath and finally be a ranger. Please don't you shed a tear for me, rejoices yourself to know I live the life I always dreamed off. You are still in my thoughts and I will never forget that unique bond we share. Yes, I wrote 'we share'. I will keep it in my heart as a shield against the hard way of life at the Wall. I'm praying the Old Gods for you to have the good and happy life you deserve. I don't know when I will be able to visit, but I will, as soon as it will be possible. Ghost sends you his greetings. I think that he misses you too. Say hi to Bran, Rickon, Robb, Maester Luwin, Belinda, Theon and all Winterfell's household. I miss them all. Tell Will the mason that the colors are keeping vivid and the wood holds despite the cold, he will understand. It would please my heart to have news from you. Letters being less formal than the raven's messages. May the Gods be with you, always. Your devoted, Jon Snow."_

"That little scum!" Ylliria shouts out as she finishes the letter.

"Who? Jon Snow?"

"No, Theon Greyjoy! That whore's bastard!"

"My Lady! I never heard you using such filthy words before." Belinda says, putting a hand on her heart.

"Theon has hide this letter for months! Certainly since Tywin Lannister came at Winterfell!"

"Why would he do such a thing?"

"Oh, I know why!... He hates me so much. He thinks I'm a schemer and after Robb only for his wealth!" Ylliria paces back and forth in the room. "But, he will pay for this! I swear he will!"

"Are you going to write to Jon?"

"Yes and making him all the apologies he deserves. It bothers me not knowing where Robb is, otherwise I would send him a raven and tell him how his dear friend Theon dare to treat his betrothed." She furiously flings.

.

After the Lord Commander has send him away, Jon goes for the kitchens, meeting with his friends.

"Come on, lets have a look." Pyp says as soon as he enters the place.

"On what?" The young man teases.

"The sword, you idiot!... Show us the sword!" Grenn comes.

Jon laughs and hands him the scabbard to hold while he removes it, making a clinking noise of metal. He hands it to Pyp that goes away with it, followed by Grenn and the other guys. "Let us see it too! Let us see it too!"

"I'll just put it in front of the light so we can see the metal shine." Pyp says.

Jon goes sitting next to Sam on a bench. His friend is busy to read a book, an annoyed look over his face.

"What is it?" Jon asks.

"I... I can't..." Sam stutters.

"You can't what?"

"Argh!... I'm really not suppose to say it..."

"And yet, you really want to say it. So, you want to say that..." Jon smiles.

"There was a raven. I red the message to Maester Aemon." Sam swallows. "It's your brother, Robb."

"What? What about him?" He stands us straight.

"He is heading South... To war..."

Jon's face radically changes into a very concerned one.

"All his Bannermen have rallied to his side. They will keep him safe."

"And a word of Ylliria? The Lady Bennett?"

"No, nothing. I'm sorry."

"She's now alone in Winterfell."

"I'm sure she's safe there, Jon."

"Yes, but I should be there... I should be with my brother."

.

In her bedroom, Ylliria is reading Jon's letter over and over again. "What a curious message for Will the mason?" She wonders. "Oh well, I'll find out tomorrow. I'll ask him." She puts the letter in the middle of a book in her trunk and gets ready to go to sleep.

The next morning, she goes to the builder's quarters. "My Lady? What brings me the honor of your visit?" Meachem, the head of the builders, welcomes her when she enters.

"I'd like to speak with Will, your mason. I have a message for him." She simply explains.

"Oh, I'm sorry, My Lady. But Will is working at Winter Town. In preparation for the winter that is about to come, we started the repairs on some of the little houses there."

"When he will be back, would you send him to me?"

"Of course, My Lady." The old builder gently smiles.

But once outside, she couldn't wait for so long and decides to walk to the village on her own. The weather is quiet good today, the sky seems open enough to give no rain.

Winter Town is quiet and only a few people are already living in the small houses leaning against the Castle big walls. She easily spots Will busy to patch a wall. She calls for him and he directly turns his head to her. "My Lady?" He rushes down his ladder. "What are you doing here without any escort?"

"Just walking around. Don't worry, I won't stay long. I have a message for your from Jon Snow."

"Really?" The mason seems a bit surprised.

"It doesn't make any sense to me, but Jon said in the letter it would to you. So I quote: Tell Will the mason that the colors are keeping vivid and the wood holds despite the cold." She recites. Immediately, Will starts to laugh. "Oh, so I suppose you know what he is talking about." She's now curious to know.

"Aye, My Lady, I do. How is he, at the Wall?"

"He seems to be quiet well. The letter is a few months old already, I just receive notice of it yesterday. I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't be, My Lady. I'm happy to have news from him and that he is well."

"May I ask what the story is behind the message?" She shyly comes.

"Hum... Well, I don't know if I... It really wouldn't do any good for you to know, My Lady."

"For me? What do you mean? Is Jon in kind of trouble?" She worriedly asks.

He bites his lip to punish himself to have dropped the last sentence. "No, no, My Lady. Really, I'm talking too much."

"Yes, you have! Now better tell me everything. You wouldn't let me wondering around about it, would you?"

Will sighs. "Before his departure for the Wall, he asks me to make a pocket portrait."

"A portrait of Winterfell?"

"No, My Lady. A portrait of you."

"Of me?" She whispers.

"See, it's really nothing bad."

"No, it isn't. Thank you, Will. Be careful up there." She distractedly says, already going back to the Castle.

.

Lady Stark is coming back from Twin Castle at nightfall and directly enter her son's tent to debrief him of the meeting with Lord Frey.

"If we do that, then they never get back across..." Lord Umber speaks when Catelyn arrives.

They all stand up. "Well? What did he say?" Robb impatiently asks.

"Lord Walder has granted your crossing." She says. Robb sighs in relief. "His men are yours as well. Less the four hundred he will keep here to hold the crossing against any who that would pursue you."

"And what does he want in return?"

"You will be taking on his son, Olyvar, as your personal squire. He expects a knighthood in good time."

"Fine, fine... And?"

"And Arya will marry his son, Waldron. When they both come of age."

"She won't be happy about that." Robb discretely marching on Theon's foot to make him stop chuckling.

Lady Stark stares at her son, waiting till he understands that there are more requirements.

"And?" He drawls with anxiety.

"And... When the fighting is done..." She pauses. "You will marry one of his daughters. Which ever you prefer. He has a number he things would be suitable."

Theon looks at Robb, his smile suddenly disappeared from his face.

"I see." Lord Stark answers with an expressionless voice. "Did you get a look at his daughters?"

"I did..." His mother answers.

"And..."

"One was..." She clears her throat. "Do you consent?"

"Can I refuse?"

"Not if you want to cross."

His Bannermen are all waiting for his final answer, none knowing that, before the war started, he already asked the Lady Bennett to marry him. But, without his father consent, his demand falls void.

"Then, I consent!" He flings before abruptly leaving the tent.

The whole army crosses the Twin Bridge the next morning. A line of soldier taking to the west, the rest to the east.

.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31: It's all in the secrets.

Jon is climbing up the main tower in Castle Black to the rockery. "Sam said you wanted to see me?" He says to the old Maester Aemon.

"I did indeed. Perhaps you be kind enough to assist me in feeding my ravens?" The blind man points at a wooden bucket behind him. Jon lifts the lid and discovers stinky little pieces of red meat, he closes it rapidly, disgusted. "Tell me, did you ever wonder why the men of the Night's Watch take no wives and father no children?"

"No." The young man harshly says, taking the bucket and goes in front of the first row of raven's cages.

"So, they will not love. Love is the death of duty. If the day will ever come that your Lord father was forced to chose between honor on one hand and those he loves on the other, what would he do? "

"He would do whatever is right, no matter what." Jon trowing pieces of meat to the birds.

"And Lord Stark is the one man over ten thousands. Most of us are not so strong. What is honor compared to a woman's love? And what is duty against the feel of a new-born son in your arms? Or a brother smile?"

"Sam told you, didn't he?" Jon turning around to face the Maester.

"We are all human, my boy. And we all do our duty when there is no cost of it. Honor comes easy then. But, sooner or later, in every man's life, it comes a day when it is not so easy anymore. A day when he must chose." Aemon comes closer to the young man.

"And this is my day? Is that what you're saying?"

"It hurts, boy. Oh, yes... I know."

"You do not know! No one knows! I maybe a bastard, but he is my father and Robb is my brother." Jon slamming the bucket on the table.

The blind man starts to laugh. "And the Lady Bennett? What is she to you, son?"

"She's... She's..."

"Your first love, Hum?" Aemon gently smiles.

"Ylliria was the only one that never called me a bastard." He leans his fists on the table, his gaze looking down.

"And still, you're here, Sworn Brother of the Night's Watch."

"I just want to be sure she's safe, Maester." Jon coming closer to Aemon.

"The Gods were cruel when they decided to test my vows. They waited till I was old. What can I do when the ravens brought the news from the South? The ruin of my House, the death of my family. I was helpless, blind, frail... But, when I heard they killed my brother's son and his for-son and the children. Even the little ones."

"Who are you?" Jon suddenly asks.

"My father was Maeker, the first of his name. My brother Aegon reigned after him, when I had refused the throne. And he was followed by his son, Aerys. Who may called the Mad-King."

"You're Aemon Targaryen."

"I'm just a Maester of the Citadel, bound in service to Castle Black and the Night's Watch... I will not tell you to stay or go. You must take that choice yourself." He puts his hands on Jon's shoulders. "And live with it for the rest of your days. As I have..."

.

Belinda rushes in the room where Ylliria finishes her daily correspondence, among them a letter to Jon. "My Lady! My Lady!" The kitchen-maid yells.

"Belinda, will you please be careful! You're already six months pregnant! What's the emergency?"

"The emergency is to deliver you this, My Lady!" She says, handing her a squared folded paper.

Ylliria directly recognizes the seal in a form of a sideways Direwolf and smiles. "It's Robb's!" She grins from ear to ear, breaking the seal and nervously opening it while the Maid curtseys and withdraws to the kitchens.

"_My Sweet at heart, _

_Finally some peace and quiet in this madness to write you this too short letter. I want you to know that by the grace of the Gods, I am well. _

_We are nearly in sight of Lord Frey's Twin Castle on the Green Fork. The Bannermen still take me for a young and green in command, but I'm more and more determined in my quest to save father from the Lion's claws and am convinced that only a Stark will make it happen. I know you'll understand._

_We were notified that Lord Tywin Lannister has split his army in two. One lead by his son Jaime himself. _

_These events I relate to you, are only a few things of the many which we have done already. And because I am not able to tell you_ _all what is in my mind for obvious reasons. _

_I hope that Bran and Rickon are not too much of a burden and that they behave as Lords should do._

_My Precious Ylliria, there is not a day or a night passing where you are not in my thoughts, admiring and playing with your locket, keeping it preciously in my doublet during our hard days riding South._

_Might the Old Gods guarding you in their safety and may you continue in good health and good spirit._

_I bid you farewell for now._

_Your true loving, Robb Stark, Heir of Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North."_

Tears are slowly running down her cheeks as she read it several times, gently passing her fingers over his handwriting. "Oh almighty Gods, I'm begging you to keep him safe and bringing him back to me." She whispers, holding the papers against her heart.

_._

Theon finds Robb sitting in front of a brazier in the middle of the camp, surrounded by soldiers. He is warming up his hands, talking and laughing with some of them. A goatskin going from one hand to the other, coarse comments coming from all sides.

"Ah! My dear friend Theon." Robb tries to stand up. "Look my men, this is my friend Theon Greyjoy, heir of the Iron-Islands. You all know the Iron-Islands, do you?" He looks around. "Don't you ever say you don't know them. He does not like that!" He lowers his voice, putting a finger across his mouth. "So, my faithful right-hand man, what other wonderful news are you going to announce me now?" He mumbles, making exaggerating movements with his arms.

"How much did you drink, My Lord?"

"None of your concern, m'Lord Greyjoy." He mocks him.

With a gesture of his head, Theon sends the soldiers away. They sit, side by side, in silence for a moment.

"I never wanted this." Robb sadly comes.

"I know."

"What am I gonna do now?"

"Continue, of course! To the end... We didn't even have a fight yet."

"I was not referring about war."

"Hum... Are you gonna tell Ylliria about those new arrangements?"

"No!" Robb curtly answers.

"But, you gave your word to the Lord Frey."

"The war just started. Nothing is really settled in stone."

"Are you going to forswear yourself?"

"I don't know, Theon. I really don't know what I'm going to do."

"I would never break her heart!" Theon suddenly whispers.

"Theon, it's none of your business." Robb cuts him. "A lot of things may happen before we're heading back North. We'll see once we're have to face the problem."

"We? Wait, you'll face the Frey girls not me!" He shivers just by thinking of it.

"Discussion is closed, Theon. I don't want to hear anything about it anymore. Did I made myself clear!" He looks at Theon with his piercing green eyes. His friend only nods for an answer.

_._

"Our scouts tell us the Stark's host is moved South from the Twins with Lord's Frey recruits in tow. They are a day's march North." Lord Kevan Lannister, Tywin's brother, says.

"Hum. The boy may lack experience and sense, but he does have a certain..." Tywin pauses when he sees his son Tyrion entering the tent. "... Mindless provincial courage." He takes a bite from his plate, staring at the dwarf.

"Oh, do continue. Didn't mean to interrupt." Tyrion calling a servant for wine, dangling a empty glass in the air.

"I hope your savages will be of some use otherwise than wasting good steel."

"The great hairy one insisted he must have two battle axes, heavy black steel, double sided." Kevan explains.

"Shagga likes axes." The dwarf answers.

"When the battle commences, you and your Wildlings will be in the vanguard." Tywin orders.

"The vanguard?... Me and the Tribe's men on the front lines?"

His father nods. "They do seem rather ferocious."

"Ferocious? Last night, a Moon brother stabbed a Stone Crow over a sausage. Three Stone Crows size the Moon brother and opened his throat. Bronn managed to keep Shagga from chopping off the dead man's cock, which was fortunate. But, even still Ulf is demanding blood money, which Shagga refuse to pay." Tyrion explains.

"When soldiers lack discipline, the fault lies with their commander." His father thunders.

"Surely, there are ways to have me killed that are less detrimental to the war effort."

"There won't be no more discussion on the matter." Tywin cuts.

"It appears that I'm not hungry after all. Excuse-me, My Lords." The dwarf leaves the table and the tent.

.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32: War now and then.

The next morning, Bronn tumbles down in Tyrion's tent. He noisily drops parts of his armor on the floor, waking the dwarf in a start. "What is that? What do you want?" Tyrion yells, still half asleep.

"You're sleeping through the war. The Stark boy stole a night's march on us. They are a mile north." Bronn throws him his helmet.

"Get my squire!" Tyrion yells.

"You don't have one!" He retorts, laughing.

Tyrion finally get dressed as best he could and comes out of his tent, his helmet in his hand. "Watch out!" A horseman screams at him, passing with his horse in a gallop.

Bronn rejoins him. "Just one advice for you: Stay low." He tells him.

"Stay low? Is that some kind of a sell-sword's prefight joke?"

"If you're lucky, nobody will notice you." He smirks.

"I was born lucky!" They arrive at the quarters when the Barbarians have settled their camp. "Tribes men of the Vale, gather around!" Tyrion screams, going in the middle. "Stone Crows, Black Ears, Burned men, Moon Brothers and Painted Dogs. Your domination over the Val begins now! En route to claim what is yours!"

"Half-man! Half-man!" Shagga starts to chant; smashing the axes he holds in either hand together and makes them ring. He is soon followed by all the men around.

"To battle!" The dwarf orders.

He does not have the time to move aside, his hordes are already rushing down the camp to go to the battlefield. He is jostle left and right, when all of a sudden a mass, swung by one of the man, lands behind his head and knocking him out.

.

It is nearly dusk, Ylliria staggers in the middle of a field. Her gown is in rags, her hair tousled, her face dirty and her arms and legs full of bruises and scratches. Wherever she looks there are bodies laying around her; some still screaming in pain. Lances, swords, arrows, pieces of armors, dead horses, half a leg, a head without a corpse and blood, so much blood. The ground is streaming red from all the blood. She marches through the desolation and the smoke, slowly lifting her head. "The Castle..." She whispers at the sight of the imposing fortress in front of her.

There are no guards at the gate and still that foul smell of blood and burned flesh. Arrived in the courtyard, there are more bodies and more blood. "Where is everybody?" She says, stumbling over someone; a man lying on his side. She knees and turns him around. She lets out a muffled scream, recognizing Lord Eddard Stark a huge gash half across his neck, his head weirdly wobbling. She pushes him away, horrified and continues her way to the entrance of the tower. Another man in sitting on the ground, his back leaning against the door and his legs spread open. His face is hidden by his helmet. Despite the fear she feels, she slowly approaches and takes off the piece of armor. "No, no, no, no... Not him... Not him... Please... Not him..." She repeats, closing her eyes just hoping that the vision of Robb laying dead is not true. When she opens them again, she sits in the middle of the courtyard, as the little girl she was, one of her mother's arm around her waist and a gigantic white horse towering over her. She sees the blade of a long-sword sparkling in the morning sun, blood dripping from it. She feels the tears rolling down her face and just sees red and gold all around her. The battle steed makes a ninety-degree turn, lead by the horseman who is looking down at her. Her sobs are turning into cries now when the hooves of the mount are coming dangerously close to her. She forces herself to lift her head, wanting to see his face. But, only sees a head of a lion on the man's armor. "His face... This time, let me see his face." She screams, but no sound comes out of her. She lifts a hand to cover her eyes and there he is... Tywin Lannister.

Ylliria wakes up with a start, breathing heavily and a cold sweat sticking her nightgown to her body. It's daylight. Slowly, she rouses out of bed, pouring water in a bowl and scooping some with both hands to splash it in her face. She wipes it off with a cloth, looking herself in the mirror, still shaking from the nightmare.

_._

Lady Stark and Rodrik Cassel are waiting at the top of a small hill. "We should go now, My Lady. It's not safe here." The master-at-Arms comes.

"No." She says, keeping her gaze at the horizon.

"My Lady." He insists.

Suddenly, they hear galloping horses coming out of the woods beneath them. Lady Stark scrutinizes every one of the horsemen she sees approaching, till she finally recognizes her son on his white stallion coming up front of the column. She smiles and lets out a heavy sigh of relief. When he arrives next to her, she sees blood on his arm. "Are you hurt?"

"No, it's someone else or..." He squeezes it several times to be sure. "No, it's not mine." He lets out a small laugh.

Climbing the slope, a soldier pushes Jaime Lannister from his horse. He falls hard on the ground, trying to soften his drop despite his tied hands.

"By the time they knew what was happening, it already happened." Robb tells his mother.

Lord Umber and Theon are helping Jaime to get on his knees. "Lady Stark." The Lord raises his head, blood running down his check from a cut on his temple.

"Kingslayer." She flings.

"I would offer you my sword, but it seems I have lost it." He smirks.

"It is not your swords I want." She pauses. "Give me my daughters back! Give me my husband!"

"I have mislaid them as well, I'm afraid."

"Kill him, Robb! Send his head to his father! He cuts down ten of our men! You saw him." Theon urges him.

"He's more use to us alive than dead. He is our prisoner and we don't slaughter prisoner of war." Robb severely declares.

"Take him away and put him in irons." Lady Stark orders.

"Do as my mother says." Robb confirms as he sees his men hesitating.

Lord Umber and Theon grab Jaime and raise him on his feet.

"You could end this war right now, boy. Safe thousands of lives. You fight for the Starks and I fight for the Lannisters. Swords, lances, teeth, nails... Choose your weapons. And let end this here and now." Jaime tries.

"If we do it your way, Kingslayer, you'd win... We both know that... We're not doing it your way." Robb calmly answers.

"Come on, pretty man." Lord Umber grins, taking him away under the cheering of Robb's soldiers.

"I send two thousand men to their graves today." The young Lord sadly comes.

"The bards will sing songs about their sacrifice." Theon smiles, trying to comfort him.

"Aye... But, the dead won't hear them." He softly answers, turning to look at his mother before going up the hill. "One victory does not make us conquerors!" He shouts at his men gathered around. "Did we free my father? Did we rescue my sisters from the Queen? Did we free the North from those who want us on our knees?" He looks randomly at some of them. "This war is far from over, my brave men. Far from over..." He concludes, hoping he had put back some senses into them after only one victorious battle.

.

In King's Landing, all the bells start to ring in unison. People are gathering on the main place, some already shoulder to shoulder in front of the Great Sept of Baelor, where all the principal ceremonies are held. Between the two principal buildings making up the ensemble, they have raised a dais. Four seats on its left are waiting for their high ranked occupants.

The waiting crowd is starting to make their own assumptions on what will happen on this very day. The new King of the Seven Kingdoms, Joffrey Baratheon, is making his entrance through the huge door of the central edifice. He salutes with his hand his people cheering at his sight. He turns around to welcome his mother, Cercei and his betrothed the Lady Sansa Stark. He leads both women to their seats. The rest of his council, Lord Baelish and Lord Varys, are standing behind them.

On the other side of the podium, Grand Maester Pycelle and Sir Ilyn Payne, the royal executioner, holding the handle of a long-sword, pointed to the floor between his parted legs.

Two soldiers from the King's Gold Cloaks Guard are dragging forward a chained Eddard Stark to the middle of the dais to face the crowd. "Traitor! Traitor!" People immediately start to chant. He makes thinner by the weeks in jail, his face drawn in pain, still from the wound on his leg.

The bells suddenly cease to ring; Eddard slowly lifts his head and begins to speak. "I, Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Hand of the King." The crowd's suddenly going silent. "I come before you to confess my treason in the sight of Gods and men. I betrayed the faith of my King, Robert Baratheon. I plotted against his son before his father's blood run cold. Joffrey Baratheon is the one true heir of the Iron Throne and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm." He calmly recites.

"As we sin, so do we suffer." Grand Maester Pycelle speaks out. "You all be witnessed, this man has confessed his crimes. Will he be in peace with the Gods." He turns towards the King.

Joffrey is slowly rising from his chair and comes forward. "My dear mother bids me to let Lord Stark take the Black at the Wall. And the Lady Sansa has begged me for mercy." He pauses. "But, they have the soft hearts of women. As long as I, Joffrey Baratheon, first of his name, will be King over the Seven Kingdoms, treason will never go unpunished!" He raises his voice. "So, my sentence will be without leniency. Sir Ilyn, behead this man!"

Sansa starts to scream, pleading Joffrey to spare her father. The people on the plaza are starting to fidget, the back rows pressing to the rows in the front to approach as close as possible of the dais.

One of the guards pushes Lord Stark to his knees. For the last time, he looks at the sun high in the sky and gently smiles, just before the executioner swings the long sword against his neck.

_._


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33: When the crypt of Winterfell tells the truth.

Bran is making another dream about a three-eyed raven. Remembering what Old Nan had told him, he decides to follow the bird to the end of its errand and listen to his message. "Go to the crypt, your father is waiting!" It says with a shrill voice. He wakes up in a start, yelling for Ylliria.

"Bran, what's the matter?"

"I need to go to the Crypt! Now! It's important." The boy pushing the blankets away from him.

"Why would you want to go down there? Hodor won't go, you know that and you're too heavy for me to carry you." She softly explains, folding the multiple layers of his bet at his feet.

"Find a way or I will crawl myself to it! Let me go!" Bran says hysterically.

"My sweet boy, calm down." She takes her in his arm, gently rocking him. "What's the matter? You made another nightmare?"

"I need to go to the crypt, Ylliria." He pleads, tears slowly running down his cheeks.

"I can take him, My Lady." Osha says, standing at the door frame.

.

Tyrion wakes up on a wagon, going through the battlefield to collect the dead and the wounded.

"You're a real shit warrior." A voice comes out of the blur.

The dwarf slowly opens his eyes and turns his head towards the voice. "I'm alive?" He asks when he recognizes Bronn.

"You're alive!" He puts his swords back in his scabbard.

"Did we win?"

"We probably won't have this conversation if we didn't." He helps him out of the wagon.

"How did our tribes men do?"

"Yeah! Good! See for yourself." He points at the field in front of them where his Barbarians are busy to steal all the valuable belongings from the corpses laying on the ground. Tyrion turns his head from disgust when he sees Chella from the Blackears cutting off the right ears from the dead she was certainly responsible for, giving the dwarf the proof, if this was needed, on the story he was told about this tribe.

"You're wounded?" His Lord father asks, arriving on his white horse, wearing his resplendent armor in heavy steel plate, enameled with dark crimson.

"Good of you to notice. I hear we won."

"Huh! The scouts were wrong. There were two thousands Starks Bannermen not twenty."

"Did we get the Stark boy at least?"

"He wasn't here."

"Where was he then?"

"With his other eighteen thousand men." Tywin gently taps his heels on his horse flanks and goes his way.

"And where are they?" Tyrion's question stayed unanswered.

.

"Tell me about your dream, Little Lord." Osha asks Bran, carrying him on her shoulders.

"The raven at three eyes. It told me to come with him and so I did. We wend down into the crypt and my father was there." He explains.

"Your father is not down there, Little Lord. Not for many years yet. It was just a dream." The Wildling answers.

"He was there last night. I talked to him." He stubbornly continues.

"Bran makes this dream very often. It's better to go through this that he sees for himself." Ylliria says.

"No, this one was different. In the other dreams, father was never there."

"Because you told me you stop the dream before the end, Sweetling."

"What are you scared of? You lived beyond the Wall!" Bran seeing Osha hesitating at the entrance.

"It's the dead, Little Lord."

"They are dead and the only faces you will see are made of hard stone."

"I'll take the torch." Ylliria leans the tip over the brazier.

Slowly they go down the underground.

"That's my Grand-father, Lord Rickard. He was burned alive by the Mad King Aerys." Bran explains, hoping to calm Osha's fears. "And that's Lyanna, my father's sister."

"She seemed to be a very beautiful woman." Osha remarks, looking at the fine lines of her face.

"King Robert was suppose to marry her, but Prince Rhaegar kidnapped her and raped her. The King fought a war to win her back. He killed Rhaegar with his hammer, but Lyanna died anyways and he never got her back at all."

"A sad tale, My Lord."

They arrive on a curve where the empty vaults are waiting for the following Starks. They stopped at the one suppose to be for Lord Eddard. "There is were I saw father." Bran points at the hole.

"You see, Bran. The vault is empty. He's not here. And hoping it won't be for many years." Ylliria softly says, approaching the torch from the opening.

They hear a strange roar from the back of the cell. "What was that?" Osha makes two steps back. Suddenly they see a shadow rushing towards them, all teeth out. The three of them starts to scream, Ylliria dropping the torch and Osha and Bran falling backwards.

"Here, Shaggydog." A high-pitched voice softly comes, standing in the mouth of their father's tomb.

"Rickon?" Ylliria calls. "What in the Seven Heavens are you doing down here? My heart nearly stopped beating!"

"I came to see father!" The little boy sternly voices, making Ylliria's eyes widen.

"How many times do I've told you father is in King's Landing with Sansa and Arya!" Bran reprimands him while Osha takes him back on her shoulders.

"No, he was down here! I saw him!"

"Saw him when?"

"Last night, when I was sleeping."

"Rickon, you made a dream. This all was only a dream." Ylliria softly says, taking him in her arms.

"Father is coming home. He told me, Ylliria. Like he promised, he's coming home." The little boy takes her face into his small hands.

"We all better return to the Castle." She discreetly waves away her tears, carrying him in her arms.

Back in the courtyard, Maester Luwin is waiting for them a dark look on his face and a small paper in his hand.

"Maester?" Ylliria says with a trembling voice, holding Rickon tight against her.

"My children... I'm so sorry." He whispers.

.

Lady Stark crosses the camp, marching straight on. She doesn't seem to see the soldiers standing in line where she passes by, bending and paying her their respects. Her gaze fixes the woods in front of her, her face closed and as white as chalk. Only when she is certain that no one would see her anymore, she finally let out her grief, holding tight the first tree she approaches, trying to get her breath back and fighting hard to stay on her feet. She finds that she is still to close to let out the scream that she desperately tries to hold in her throat, so she marches deeper into the woods.

A little bit further down, she hears someone chopping a tree and grunting loud at each blow. She decides to follow the sound and soon recognizes her son Robb smashing his swords against a huge trunk.

"Robb." She softly comes, but he does not hear her. "Robb!" She calls louder. He finally turn his face to her, full of tears, his body shacking from rage. "You've ruined your sword." She calmly says, trying to crack a smile.

Robb drops his weapon, out of strengths and comes near his mother. She grabs him in her arms and comforts him. "I'll kill them all, mother!" He sobs in her fur collar. "I swear to the Gods... Everyone of them. I will kill them all."

"My boy, don't forget that they have your sisters." She takes his face between her hands and wipes his tears away. "We got to get the girls back and then we will kill them all. I'll promise you, my sweet boy."

.

Later that day and finally alone in her room, Ylliria let herself go to weep as much as she wants, throwing herself onto the bed and burying her face into the pillows.

She prays for the Lord Eddard Stark to rest in peace in the Seven Heavens.

She prays for the Lady Stark, hoping she is safe with Robb. At least they have each other.

She pleads the Gods that this war will soon have an end, even if she already knows deep down that it will last longer than she expects it. A safety mission is a whole different thing than a call for vengeance. And she knows Robb will call for it now that they killed his father.

She wishes he was with her right here and now.

She wishes she could be there for him to comfort him in his grief and to feel safe in his arms again.

She wishes Jon would return from the Wall, to help and support Robb.

She wishes he would be there to comfort her.

She wishes the three of them could carries all that weight of responsibilities.

She wishes they were all kids again and play silly games in the courtyard.

She prays, Ylliria, she prays so hard for the Gods to give her the strength to continue. She needs to be stronger than yesterday, for the boys Bran and Rickon. And probably tomorrow even more.

But tonight, she feels tired, sad, empty and so lost and so alone.

She cries herself to sleep.

.


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34: The King of the North.

The next morning, Ylliria comes down to have her breakfast, her eyes still swollen from her tearfulness. She discovers Belinda and Emma whimpering. "Oh, My Lady." Belinda says between two sobs. "This is a tragedy. We all loved the Lord so much."

"I know, Belinda. But, as grievous and distressing this is..." Ylliria squeezing her hands together, trying to hide them from shaking. "... And how much we cry and mourn, I will ask you to pull yourself together and show no tears in front of the little Lords. If you are not able to do it, please have the courtesy to leave the room and hide to cry." She says with the firmest tone she could manage.

"Yes, My Lady." The two maids softly answer.

"My Lady?" Maester Luwin calls, entering the kitchens. "May I have a word with you, in private." He asks. She follows him in a corner of the Grand Hall. "Don't be too hard on the household and on yourself, My Lady. We are all very affected by Lord Stark's death."

She slowly nods.

"And I would advise, to give the day off to most of them and only keep the once strictly necessary, for all of them to begin their mourning."

She nods again.

"No council either. Let us use this day for prayers and silence in respect to the late Lord."

"Agreed. But, at tomorrow's council, I'd like to make an announcement. I'd request all men, young and old, from Winterfell to have swords training at least two times a week. The Harvests are done and I want them to be prepared for all contingencies."

"My Lady, we have the guards for that." He softly protests.

"In a small number since most of them have followed Robb's host. Therefore, my decision. I've already discussed this with Bran and he supports this idea. Some of our people are really scared and I think that giving them a few battles tricks will maybe appease them more than all the guards around the Castle."

"Has you wish, My Lady."

"I was wondering, Maester. What about Sansa and Arya, now the Lord Stark is no more? Will they come back to us?"

"I'm afraid not, My Lady. I suppose Queen Cercei will keep them as hostages to have a threat against Lord Robb."

"That is awful! There are only girls!" She frowns, her gaze going down.

"I'm sure they will be treated with all the honors their rank demands, My Lady."

She nods once again.

"My Lady." He sighs, putting a gentle hand on her arm. "I'm begging you to spare yourself. Those last weeks you did more than it was expected from you. You cannot continue at this rhythm. I see you here in front of me so pale and fragile. It's worries me grandly."

"I'm fine, Maester. And I'm touched by your concerns." She smiles.

"Let me at least give you this tonic potion." He hands her a little bottle with a yellow-orange contains. "A few drops in your water every morning. Promise me you'll take it."

"I promise you, Maester. Thank you." She accepts the phial.

.

The Northern Lords are sitting around the long table in Robb's tent, trying to agree on the next moves they would make. Some of them wants to march on Harrenhal, convinced that Lord Tywin and his army will regroup there and by that, end Lannister's power once and for all.

Lord Reed youngest son, Marq, urges to strike west at Casterly Rock, the Lannister's stronghold.

Another Lord proposes to regroup at Riverrun, laying across Lannister's supplies lines, and so cutting Lord Tywin's army from their provisions.

Robb stays silent, patiently listen to all the options and already pondering the pros and the cons of each of them.

"The proper course is drawn, My Lords. Pledge fealty to King Renly and move South to join our forces with his." Lord Glover proposes as his turn has come.

"Renly is not the King." Robb bristly answers.

"You cannot mean to hold for Joffrey, My Lord? He put your father to death."

"That still doesn't make Renly a King. He is Robert's younger brother. Bran cannot be Lord of Winterfell before me. And so Renly cannot be King before Stannis."

"Do you mean to declare yourself for Stannis?"

"Renly is not right!" One of the Lords yells from the back of the assembly.

"Renly is already crowned." Lord Glover insists. "A large part of the Stormlands and the Dorne Lords have already signed treaties of alliance with him. If we add our strengths to his, withing the year, we will have all the Lannister's heads on pikes. All of them!"

"Why not sue for peace?" Lady Stark softly says.

All the Lords look at her, but it was her own son's eyes she felt the most. "My dear mother, they murdered father, your husband! How could you possibly think..." He raises from his chair, unsheathes his sword and lays it on the table in front of him. "This is the only peace I will have for the Lannisters!"

"That won't make your father return, Robb."

"My Lady, with all do respect, women have often a hard time to understand certain ways men are doing things." Lord Umber gently intervenes. "A man has a need for vengeance."

"Robb." She turns to face him. "I will mourn your father for the rest of my days. But I must think of the living. I want my daughters back, and the Queen holds them still. We have something Cercei wants and she has something we want. Think of it." She pauses. "I want you safe, my son, ruling at Winterfell. I want you to live your life, marry a woman you love and father as much children as you like." She looks at the other Lords. "I want to go home, my Lords, and weep for my husband." The hall stayed very quiet for a long moment.

"Peace is sweet, My Lady." Lord Tallhart softly says. "But on what terms? And we know the Lannisters will strike again, as soon as we're all safe back on our lands. They are restless and revanchist and rich. Understand we cannot take that risk, My Lady."

"Why did my two sons die for, if I am to return to my Castle with nothing but their bones?" Lord Karstark sadly points.

"Aye!" Some others agree. "We all have losses and plundering to be counted by the Lannisters sell-swords. So, what of it?" One voice comes from their left side.

"Whatever you may decide for yourselves, I shall never call a Lannister my King." Lord Flint declares.

"Nor I!" Lord Karstark yells. And a mix of shouts and yells starts across the table.

"MY LORDS!" Lord Umber shouts, suddenly jumping out of his seat. "Here is what I say to these two kings!" He spits on the ground, making some of them laugh. "Renly Baratheon is nothing to me. Nor Stannis neither. Why should they rule over me and mine from some flowery seat in the South? What do they know of the Wall? Or the Wolf's Wood? Even their Gods are wrong!" This time all are laughing. "Why shouldn't we rule ourselves again? It was the Dragons we bow to and now the Dragons are dead." He takes out his long-sword from its scabbard. "There!" He roars. "There sits the only King I mean to bend my knee to." He points at Robb. "THE KING OF THE NORTH!" He kneels in front of the young man. Robb slowly raises from his chair, ready to put Lord Umber back on his feet and tell him to stop his non-sense. But...

"I'll have peace on those terms. They can keep their Red Castle." Lord Karstark comes forward.

"And their iron chair too." Lord Reed says, putting his swords down on Robb's feet. "The King of the North!"

"Am I your brother? Now and always?" Theon asks.

"Now and always." Robb answers.

Greyjoy grabs his swords and lays it at his feet too. "My sword is yours, in victory and defeat, from this day till my last day."

"THE KING OF THE NORTH!" All the Lords are repeating in unison, kneeling and putting their swords down.

_._

Ylliria watches the Captain of the Guards giving the common men of Winterfell their first swords and bows lessons. Grunts, curses and whistling arrows are echoing around the courtyard.

"No, not like this. Like this." The Captain keeps saying, showing them the moves once again.

"They don't fight very well." Bran, sitting next to her, giggles.

"Give them some time, Sweetheart. We don't want them to become soldiers, just knowing how to protect themselves." Ylliria explains.

"You fear the war could come to us? Here in the North?"

"You never know, Bran. But, we must be prepared, even if at the end it was not necessary. Pray the Gods, it won't."

"You fight like a goose!" The Captain suddenly yells on one of the me younger men.

"Captain! I know you like your craft, but don't be too hard on them. Just teach them a few moves." Ylliria calls him.

"Yes, My Lady. My pardons." He smiles at her and turns back to the young lad. "If those were real swords, the first peck would have taken your arm right off. Here, you need to block the blow by crossing it the other way."

"I wish I could be with them." Bran softly whispers.

"I know you would. But, you're Lord Winterfell now. You need to provide safety to your people and find any means to reach that goal. And let me tell you something." She leans over to him. "You are doing very well, My Sweet Little Lord." She puts an arm around his shoulder and squeezes him close to her.

"It's you that is doing the most." The young boy retorts.

"Not true. If you weren't here with me and Rickon and Maester Luwin, I wouldn't have the strength to do it." She kneels in front of him, taking his head between her hands. "Never forget, My Lord, you are my vigor. You are my power and my will. And I'm not doing it only for Robb... I'm doing it for all of you. I'm nothing without you all."

.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35: Devil take the hindmost!

Jon finishes to tighten the cinch around his horse belly. "Easy, boy... Easy." He whispers when the animal made a step aside and bumped into him. "Ghost? To me." He calls when he is finally ready to go. He opens the stable doors and jumps in surprise when he sees Sam in front of him. "By the Gods!" He curses.

"Jon, you must not do this." The chubby man says.

"I have to." He pulls on his rains and march to the Castle main door.

"You can't." Sam pleads, still on his heels.

Jon gets rid of the crossbeam and the door opens. "Get out of my way, Sam." He gently pushes him aside and mounts his horse.

"I won't let you pass."

"I would rather not hurt you. So, move aside Sam." Jon gently taps his heels against the animal's flanks.

"They will send out the word. They'll send out ravens. People will come after you. Do you know what happens to deserters?" He grabs the strap on the horse's head to make him stop.

"Better that you do."

"And what are you going to do?"

"Gonna find my brother. And put a sword through King's Joffrey's throat."

"You can't leave us now. We need you here."

"Move!" He orders, making his horse ready to run.

"I won't let you go. I am warning you." Sam courageously stands in front of the mount.

"Move!" Jon says once more.

"No!"

Jon hardly taps on his horse flanks and knocks about his friend on his way out before starting to push it in full gallop, his Direwolf running after him.

_._

"I think it's time for you to earn your first Silver Link, My Lady." Maester Luwin says.

"Oh, no! I'm sure I'm not ready for this yet. I couldn't study as much as I wanted with those last w..." Ylliria stutters.

He hands her a rolled sheet. "Answer all these questions. I give you one hour and I will then ask you for details and explanations. You are ready, My Lady. You just lack a little bit of self-confidence." He winks at her and leave the room.

She sits down at the table, taking a deep breath before unrolling the vellum and slowly reading the questions. She grabs her quill and a blank squared paper from the pile and starts to write.

.

Lady Starks approaches the prisoners quarters. The two guards posted at the entrance are bowing when they see her. "My Lady?"

"I want to see him now!" She orders.

They both escort her to a lonely tree at the end of the quarters and behind the prisoner's cages. Jaime Lannister is heavily chained around the trunk. "Leave us." She harshly speaks. After a moment of hesitation, the two guards are going back a few steps.

"You look lovely tonight, Lady Stark. Widowhood becomes you." Jaime smirks. She grabs a stone on the floor. "Your bed must be lonely. Is that why you came?" He pouts. She looks dagger at him hefting the rock. "I'm not in my best, but I think I can be at service." He sees her slowly approaching. "Slip out of that gown and we see..." He is brutally interrupted by a huge swing in his jaw from the Lady Stark. He spits the blood in his mouth and turns his head towards her again. "I do like a violent woman." He heavily sighs in pleasure.

"I will kill you tonight, Sir. Pack you head in a box and send it to your sister."

"Let me show you how." He mocks her. "Hit me again, over the ear. And again and again. You're stronger than you look, it would not take long."

"That is what you want the world to believe, isn't it? That you don't fear death."

"But, I don't, My Lady. The dark is coming for all of us. Why cry about it?"

"Because you are going to the deepest of the Seven Hells if the Gods are just." She spits between her teeth.

"What Gods are those? The Trees your husband pray to? Where were the Trees when his head was getting chopped off? If your Gods are reel, and if they're just, why is the world so full of injustice?"

"Because of men like you."

"There are no men like me. Only me." He breathes heavily, looking the other way.

"My son, Bran, who did he come to fall from that tower?"

"I pushed him out the window." Jaime simply answers has it was nothing.

"Why?" Catelyn whispers, completely abash.

"I hoped the fall would've killed him."

"Why?"

He sighs. "You should get some sleep. It's going to be a long war."

Lady Stark look at the stone she still has in her hand, finally letting it drop on the ground and leaves without another word.

.

When the given time was over, Maester Luwin comes back in the room where Ylliria is still writing. "Time's up, My Lady." He says, sitting in front of her. "May I please ask you to give me the set of questions?"

"There were harder that I thought. Two of them I never read anything about it in the books."

"Yes, I know." He smirks. "Do you know who wrote those?" He asks her.

"You did?"

"No, my old Maester did. It was my first exam as a novice. Maester Ymbert was one of the most severe in the Seven Kingdoms."

"Maester Ymbert? Isn't he the one who wrote the Red Book: Hundred Plants and Potions?"

"Himself. He taught me everything I know. King Aerys the second had request him to become a Grand Maester at the Citadel, but he refused. He wanted to continue his studies independently from the Grand Sevens."

"Now I know why you are such a good Maester." She smiles.

"Don't try to bribe me, young Lady." He smiles in return. "Let us start." He asks her the first question from the paper, that she answers perfectly. The second and third were correct, but she forgot one of the ingredients in her potion. The fourth and sixth were a complete fail. But, she made it up on the other three questions.

She eagerly looks at Maester Luwin, that is silently counting her points. Her heart is racing and she feels her legs shaking under the table. He starts to rummage in one of his pockets and slides her a Silver Link.

"Does it means that I've passed?" She nervously says, trying to hide her excitement.

"What does a Silver Link means for a Maester?"

"Silver is for Medicine and Healing."

"Hum, hum." He nods. "So, what do you conclude, My Lady?"

"Oh! Thank you, Maester." She smiles. "But, I thought women could not become Maesters."

"One Link does not make you a Maester. And I do not really see you taking the oath at our order." He softly laughs.

"For sure." She laughs with him. "I'd like you to continue to teach me, Maester."

"As you wish, My Lady. As long as you like."

.

Jon rides hastily through the woods leading to Mole's Town, the first village when you leave the Wall. The Direwolf suddenly growls still running besides him. "What is it, Ghost?" He asks, but then hears galloping horses behind him. He gives a quick look to see torches dancing in the far. He taps his horse again to make him speed a little more.

Sam does not see a branch across his way and takes it full force in the chest, making him fall hard on the ground.

"Sammy!" Grenn yells. Jon stops and turns around, listening to the conversation.

"Is he dead?" Pyp asks.

"No, I'm not. Did you get him?" Sam comes with his high-pitched voice.

"Come, help me to put him back on his feet." Grenn asks Pyp. Jon sighs and goes back to rejoin his friends.

"Lucky you got well-padded." Pyp says, putting his two arms under his shoulder.

The three young men see Jon approaching and dismounting.

"We are taking you back where you belong." Pyp says in a menacing tone.

"I belong with my brother." Jon answers.

"We are your brothers now." Sam adds.

"They'll kill you if they found out you've gone." Grenn intervenes.

"They kill you if they know you came after me. So, go back!"

"Sam told us everything. We're sorry about your father." Pyp sadly says.

"But, it doesn't matter. You took the oath, you can't leave." Grenn claims.

"I have to. Please let me go."

"You can't. I wish I could give you some news about your Lady, but there are none." Sam softly voices.

"His Lady?" Pyp's eyes widens.

"Hear my words." Sam cuts him. "And bare witness to my vow."

"The Hell with all of you!" Jon utters.

"The night gathers and now my watch begins and should not end until my death. I should live and die at my post." Pyp continues the text.

"I'm the sword of the darkness." Grenn takes over.

"The watcher on the Wall." They now start at unison, surrounding him. "The shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch. For this night and all nights to come." Sam picks up 'Longclaw' that he took with him and had dropped when he felt. He hands it over to Jon. The young man looks at it for a moment and finally accepts it.

_._


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36: Different son, different fate.

"They have my son." Lord Tywin darkly says when he finishes reading the message they just brought him.

"The Stark boy appears to be less green than we'd hoped." Tyrion comes from the other side of the table.

"I heard his wolf killed a dozen men and as many horses." One of the Lannister's Bannermen Lord explains.

"Is it true about Stannis and Renly?" Another asks.

"Those Baratheon brothers have taking up against us." Kevan Lannister intervenes. "Jaime captured, his Army's scattered... It's a catastrophe! Perhaps we should seek for peace."

Tyrion pushes his glass of wine on the floor, breaking it into pieces. Kevan gives him a strange look. "There is your peace. Joffrey thought of that when he decided to remove Ned Stark's head. You'll have an easier time drinking from that cup than you will bring Robb Stark to the table now. He's winning, in case you hadn't noticed." The imp says.

"I'm told we still have his sisters." His uncle retorts.

"The first order of business…" The Bannermen Lord cuts him. "Is ransoming Sir Jaime."

"No truce! We can't afford to look weak. We should march at him at once." Another Lord around the table claims.

"First, we must return to Casterly Rock to rise..." A third proposes.

"THEY HAVE MY SON!" Tywin roars, slamming a fist on the wooden table. "Get out!... All of you!" He orders before sitting on the table. "Tyrion, not you." He calls back his son.

The dwarf sits on a high chair next to him waiting for his Lord father to speak. Tywin grabs a tin jug and pours some wine for both of them. "You were right about Eddard Stark. If he were alive, we could have used him to broke a peace with Riverrun and Winterfell, which would have given us more time to deal with Robert's brothers. But now... All that Madness... Madness and stupidity!" He throws the rolled paper he had still in his hands on the table. "I always thought you were a stunted fool. Perhaps I was wrong."

"Half wrong." He chuckles. "I'm new to strategy, but unless you want to be surrounded by three armies it appears we can't stay here."

"No one would stay here. Sir Gregor will head out with five hundred riders and set the Riverlands on fire front God's Eye to the Red Fork. The rest of us will regroup at Harrenhal." He takes a sip of his wine. "And you will go to King's Landing."

"And do what?"

"Rule! You will serve as Hand of the King in my stead. You'll bring that Boy King to hear and his mother too, if needs be. And you get as much as a whiff of treason for any of the rest, Baelish, Varys or Pycelle..."

"Heads, piques, wall." Tyrion cuts. His father nods. "Why not my uncle? Why not anyone? Why me?"

"Because, you are my son." Lord Lannister goes up his chair, ready to leave the place.

.

Maester Luwin has gathered Bran, Rickon, Ylliria and the whole Winterfell household in the Grand Hall. A raven arrived in the morning with a message of great importance and the Maester wants to share the news with everyone.

A soft hubbub rises from the room when everybody settles around the tables or stands around them.

"Good morning to you all." Maester Luwin starts, expecting silence. "I've gathered you here because a raven came in this morning with important news from our Lord Stark and I wanted to share it with you." He unrolls the paper and clears his throat. "The progress of Lord Stark's host is going well. They already won three battles against the Lord's Lannister." He waits to let the people cheer a little bit. "An important fight in the Whispering Woods leaded to the capture of the Lord Jaime Lannister, son of Tywin. He is held in custody, waiting for his trial and for future negotiations in due times." A wave of 'ohhh's pipes up, obliging the Maester to raise his hand to ask for quiet. "It's not all, it's not all… The Lords Bannermen have unanimously declared for our dear Lord Robb Stark to be King of the North and will, in case of opening discussions to a peace treaty, request the independence of the Northern territories." He finishes, finally letting burst out everyone's joy. "That's all for now, people." He says to dismiss the Household.

"Your Graces." Belinda comes in front of the main table and curtseys with a huge smile on her face. Bran & Rickon are looking at each other, not understanding yet why she calls them that way.

"You are Princes now." She explains. "And Princes have to be called Graces and not Lords."

"I'm now Prince Rickon?" The little boy turns towards Ylliria.

"It seems so, Sweetling." She smiles.

"So, that means that you will be Queen one day, Ylliria!" Bran shouts out.

She has a gulp of surprise when she realizes Bran says true.

"Oh by all the Gods!" Belinda exclaims, hysterically clapping in her hands. "And what a beautiful Queen you'll make, My Lady." She adds, curtseying again.

"We'll see that in due time. I think I need a moment to come to the idea." She shyly smiles. "Maester Luwin, may I have a word with you later."

"Of course, My Lady. After the little Princes' afternoon lessons, will that suit you?"

"Yes, that will be perfect. Thank you."

.

Pyp, Sam, Grenn and Jon are entering back in Castle Black, putting their horses in the stables.

Jon is the first to leave. Pyp goes after him. "Jon, wait! You did the right thing. Your place is here with us, your brothers."

The young man nods, still a sad look on his face.

"Come, lets break our fast a little bit earlier." He puts his arm around his shoulder, walking away with him. "So you would still have time to prepare Lord Commander's one."

All is quiet in the kitchens; most of the others in the Castle are still asleep. The four young men gather some bread and cheese and two jugs of beer and sit together on two benches around a table.

"Now it's time to finally raise the question." Pyp says with a gently grin on his face. "Who is the Lady?" He turns to face Jon.

"The Lady?" He feigns ignorance.

"In the woods, Sam said something to you about a Lady. Come on, share with your brothers a good story." Grenn insists.

Jon sighs. Reluctantly, he finally tells them about Ylliria. He even confesses that it saddens him he didn't receive any letter from her since the last one he had send her.

"With the war and all, maybe it's difficult for her to write back. Or maybe she didn't receive yours? How did you send it?" Sam asks.

"When Lord Tyrion Lannister when back South, he told me he would stop at Winterfell."

"See what I mean? How can you trust him, your own brother is at war against his family."

"That was before it started. And he is not like the other Lannisters."

"We totally understand now why you were tempted to flee. In your position, I probably would have done the same." Pyp finally says.

"You little dark horse! Keeping the good stuff for himself." Grenn laughs, engulfing a huge piece of bread with cheese.

.

Maester Luwin softly knocks at Ylliria's bedroom door.

"Come in, Maester." She calls from the other side.

"You wanted an audience with me, My Lady?" He asks her when he enters her chambers.

"An audience, by the Gods, that makes it so official." She smiles. "I would say a word of advise." By a simple gesture of her hand, she offers him to sit down in front of her. "Maester Luwin, I hope you will not take umbrage at what I'm about to say. But, since Lord Eddard's departure from Winterfell, you are for me the closest thing I have to a father figure."

"Your words are honoring me, My Lady."

"True words from the heart, I swear." She sighs. "So many things have change is such short period, that I feel like having ten years more on my shoulders instead of only ten mouths. But, I'm not here in front of you to complain."

"That though never crossed my mind. Quite the contrary, My Lady, I would still rather advise you to slow down your pace." He gently smiles. "So, what is it that is bothering you all of a sudden?"

"As you may know, Lord Robb had proposed to me before we receive that horrible news of his father being imprisoned."

"Yes, I bear witness to that."

"But, now with Robb proclaimed King of the North. This might change... I can't really... I'm not..." She suddenly starts to panic.

"You think you're not fit for being a Queen?"

"Yes, I was brought up a Lady. And even so, a Lady-in-Waiting for the Lady Stark. I can't be a Queen. I don't know what has to be done and what is not. I will be the first to make a blunder, I know that. And I don't want Robb to be mocked or mistrust."

"My Lady, you're are letting a single word taking over your reason." He softly speaks, taking one of her hands into his.

"This is scaring me way beyond anything that was scaring me yesterday, Maester."

"My simple advise will be as follow: Do not change anything and all will be perfect."

"As simple as that?"

"As simple as that, my child." He gently kisses her hand.

_._


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37: The Birth

Jon serves Lord Commander Mormont his breakfast. He is busy to read a message he got this morning. "Ham, again!"He lifts his head to look to Jon. "How many days in a row must a man be expecting to start his day with ham. Bring me some beer at least." He complains. "You look exhausted. Was your moonlight ride that tiring?" Jon instantly stops pouring his Commander's cup. "Don't look so terrified." Mormont smirks when he sees Jon's face. "If we beheaded everyone that runs away for the night, only ghosts would guard the Wall." Jon slowly puts the cup on the table. "At least, you weren't whoring around in Mole's Town. Honor made you leave and honor brought you back."

"My friends brought me back." Jon softly says.

"I didn't say it was your honor."

"They killed my father."

"Oh and you are going to bring him back to life, are you?" Jon lowers his head to the floor. "Good!... Well, enough of that silly thing." Mormont rises from his chair. "Beyond the Wall, the rangers reported whole villages abandoned. At night, they see fire blazing in the mountains from dusk until dawn. A captive Wildling swears their tribes are uniting in some secret stronghold. And to what ends? The Gods only know. Outside At Eastwatch, Cotter Pyke's men discovered four blue-eyed corpses. Unlike us, they were wise enough to burn them. Do you think your brother's war is more important than ours?"

"No, Lord Commander." Jon whispers.

"When dead men and worse come hunting for us in the night, do you think it matters who sits on the Iron Throne?"

"No." He says again.

"Good… Because I want you and your wolf with us when we ride out beyond the Wall tomorrow."

"Behind the Wall?"

"I will not sit meekly by and wait for the snows... I need to find out what's happening on my territory. The Night's Watch will ride in force against the Wildlings, the White Walkers and whatever else is out there... And we will find Benjen Stark, alive or dead. I will command them myself. So, I'll only ask you once, Lord Snow, are you a brother of the Night's Watch or a bastard boy who wants to play at war and dreaming of marrying a Queen?"

"I'm a sworn brother of the Night's Watch." He softly answers to his Lord Commander.

.

Ylliria enters the Castle kitchens after the morning council. She only sees Emma, busy to put some logs in the wide fireplace. "Where is Belinda?" She asks the maid.

"She was not feeling well, My Lady. She went to her room."

"Knowing her condition, you should have called me, Emma." She briskly comes.

"You were in the meeting, My Lady. I was afraid to disturb and Belinda told me it was okay." The maid shyly answers.

"Do you need some help for the supper?" She asks in a more gentled tone.

"I don't think so, My Lady. Most of it is already prepared."

"All right then. But, if need be, let me know. I will go see her now." She leaves the kitchen and goes to the old Theon apartment.

She discovers Belinda, laying on her bed, her legs spread and her hands holding her knees.

"Is the baby coming?" Ylliria asks her, a slight panic in her voice.

"I think so." The kitchen-maid answers, battling with a new contraction.

"I'll fetch Maester Luwin. Don't move."

"I won't go anywhere, that's for sure!" She scoffs, panting.

The Lady runs out of the room and goes looking for the Maester. Fortunately, he is still in the Grand Hall, writing in the House book. "Maester, Belinda is in labor! The baby!"

Luwin jumps out of his chair. "Ask Emma for hot water and fresh clean cloths. Go to my chambers and take the little wooden box with my instruments and rejoin me quickly." He orders her.

"Aye!" She just answers, not taking offense by the way he briskly talks to her.

Back in the room, Ylliria sees that the Maester had already put a mountain of pillows behind Belinda's back to put her in a comfortable sitting position and was squatting between her legs, looking at her privates.

"Give me my box, My Lady." He opens it and takes out two little bottles. He puts some of each liquid in the palm of his hand and rubs them both together with the mix. "It's violet and laurel oil. It helps to dilate the cervix and ease the release of the baby." He explains to Ylliria, while gently putting his fingers inside the maid. "All seems to go as planned, my dear. I already feel the top of his head. Now, you listen to me. Each time you feel that steering pain coming back, you hold your breath and you push hard."

"All right, Maester." She answers.

"Ylliria, you sit next to her. Each time she starts to push, you hold her by her shoulders, put one hand on her belly and lightly press on it."

"Aye, Maester."

"Here it comes!" Belinda suddenly screams.

"Push as hard as you can!"

At that moment, Emma enters with a basin of hot water and all the cloths she could gather. She timidly puts everything down near the Maester, afraid to look what is happening. "Anything else, Maester Luwin?" She whispers, her gaze on the floor.

"Prepare some more water, we never know. Thank you, Emma."

Ylliria takes one of the cloths, dips it to the fresh water that was on the nightstand and starts to wipe the sweat of Belinda's face before another contraction comes.

"The pushes are closer to each other. It won't take very long anymore." Luwin gently smiles to the maid, her face wincing again.

_._

In Robb's tent, the small council is gathered again. When they finish handling the daily business, Lord Umber picks up a wooden box from under his chair, a huge smile on his face. "Your Grace, we know that the circumstances are not really favorable for that kind of celebration. But we wanted that our King, at least, looks like one." He starts. "Since the Kings of Winter's ancient one has been lost three centuries ago, we ask our smith master to make this for you." He hands the box to Robb. When the young man opens it, he discovers a Crown, still fresh from the forge. A bronze circlet incised with runes from the First Men, surmounted by seven black iron spikes, each in a shape of long-sword's tips. "Bronze and iron are the metals of winter." The Greatjon continues.

Robb slowly takes it between his hands, lifting it for all to see. With a very solemn move and a grave expression over his face, he crowns himself with it.

"King of the North!" They're all shouting several times.

Lord Umber makes a movement with his head, asking Theon to call for the guards. "There is another thing, Your Grace." Two men are entering the tent with a wooden chair. "It's lighter and easier for transportation than a throne." He softly laughs. "But, the camp's master carpenter has taken the time to chisel a Direwolf's head on top of the back and paws with claws on the armchairs."

"My brave men." Robb finally speaks with his low voice. "You are giving me all these honors, but I still feel like I didn't accomplish much. I pray the Gods that they give me the time and the opportunities to prove to you that I am worthy of such."

"Aye!" They all scream, lifting their cups in salute.

.

It is now six hours that Maester Luwin and Ylliria are helping Belinda to deliver her first child. The maid starts to be exhausted from the pushes she already gave.

"Be brave, Belinda. We are nearly there." Luwin calmly says.

"You already said that two hours ago!" She angrily screams at him.

"Belinda!" Ylliria comes.

"Don't worry, My Lady. It's normal process for a woman to let out her wrath while giving birth. Once the baby will be in her arms, she wouldn't even remember it all." He gently laughs. "All right. Give me another good push, Belinda."

She lets out another yell. "Put that thing out of me! NOW!"

Ylliria cannot hide her laugh any longer and burst out. "Oh and you find that all so funny! I hope to be there when it will happen to you and see if you'll still laugh so hard!"

"Everything you want, my dear friend." The Lady replies, wiping away the tears from the chuckles.

They suddenly stop talking when the cries from the baby fill in the room. "Oh by the Gods, Belinda. You're a mother."

"It's a very healthy baby boy. I will need your help now, My Lady." Maester Luwin adds. He grabs a very sharp little knife from his box and hands it to her. "At you the honor to cut the umbilical cord." He smiles.

"Are you sure?" She whispers.

"You cut it precisely at four fingers from the baby's navel." He shows her, holding the baby in his hands. "It's from an very old superstition that says that it means the four seasons and the four ages of life."

With a swift movement she frees the baby from his mother's belly. "Now, you'll have to clean the baby's mucus and left overs from his growing inside. You start with the nose, the eyes and the ears and then the rest of the body. You can make a mixture of crushed roses, honey and salt and put it in the warm water. You take a cloth, soak it in your preparation and gently wash the baby. That mixture will tighten his skin." He explains while Ylliria complies. She finally wraps him in a clean tissue and puts him in Belinda's arms. The maid presents her breast and instantly the little boy starts to greedily suck at it. "Do you want me to fetch Ailwin?"

"Oh yes, Please, My Lady." She answered softly.

"We have still not finished here, My Lady." Maester Luwin calls her back. "You still need to take out the afterbirth from the mother." He shows her how to do it too.

.


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38: Plotting and planning.

For the first time since he arrived at the Wall, Jon walks through the vaults of Castle Black. Lord Commander Mormont has ask Sam to look in the library for some old maps describing the locations of the Wildling villages behind the Wall. But since yesterday, no one at seen Maester Aemon's steward coming back. A little bit worried that the lad was lost somewhere down there, Jon was requested to find him and bring him back. He enters the library. "Sam?" He calls. The air smells of old paper and dust. There are shelves everywhere, filled with books and scrolls. The only free space is to let a person walking between two racks. "Sam?" He says a little bit louder. He sees some feeble light at the far end of the narrow aisle he just passed by. Going closer, he finally sees Sam leaned over a table, reading a book. "There you are!" Jon says, making the poor young man startle.

"Oh, Jon... You scared the Seven Hells out of me!"

"Lord Commander is still waiting for his maps. Did you find them?"

"Yes, yes." He taps on a pile of scrolls besides him. "Look at this place. Did you see all those books. There are thousands and thousands of them!" He looks around with sparkles of joy in his eyes.

"Yes, but we need to go back now and prepare for departure."

"It's still the middle of the night."

"The middle of the night? You fool, it's morning already! And if you don't hurry up, you'll be finding the kitchens empty of all food."

"Already? I must have lost track of time." He grabs stack of maps, puts them under his arm and follows his friend.

"Ylliria would enjoy this place. I often saw her with a book in her hand and reading late at night." Jon sadly remembers.

"And I could need the help to set this library in order. Everything is in a jumble right now." Sam says in a sad voice, when leaving the place.

"I will ask her in my next letter to come as quickly as possible." His friend gently teases.

.

In the Grand Hall, they are having a small feast to celebrate Belinda's and Ailwin's first born. They have put the little one's crib next to the table, so Belinda could watch over him and feed him if necessary.

"So, did you already chose a name for your baby boy?" Maester Luwin asks the couple.

"I always wanted to name my first boy Matthew." Belinda answers. "But, now... And with our little Princes permissions." She turns to them. "We would like to name him Ned, in honor of your Lord father."

"My father would certainly like that." Bran smiles.

"Let us welcome little Ned! Probably the last summer baby!" Ylliria rises her cup.

"To Little Ned!" They all join in her toast.

"Look at his fingers, he has so tiny ones." Rickon leaning over the little bed.

"Let him sleep, my Prince and come eat your supper." Ylliria gently says.

They all talk, laugh, drink and eat till late in the evening. Princes, Lady, Maesters and household simply sharing a moment together in all simplicity.

Waiting till everybody has left the room, Maester Luwin asks Ylliria to stay for a moment. He rummages in one of his pockets and takes out another Silver Link. "I think you really deserve this."

"Another one? But..."

"You have delivered your first child."

"I just watched you doing it, Maester. This link is not earned fairly."

"I have to disagree with you, my Child. You watched, you listened, you learned and you did what I told you to do. And all this without a gag or a disgusting look on your face. You just concentrate and did the job." He hands her the link. "Fairly earned. And I'm sure if another baby comes around, you will be able to deliver him without my help."

"Thank you, Maester." She lightly blushes. "I must certainly be the only Lady in the Seven Kingdoms starting to build her own collar." She smiles.

"That shall be our little secret." He winks. "I wish you a good night, My Lady." He bows and goes up to his chambers.

.

The men chosen by Mormont to make up the garrison is preparing for a raid on the other side of the Wall. They dressed with their warmest clothes, pick up their best weapons and take their best horses. Two horse-drawn sledges will carry all their essentials, tents, food, tools, ropes, etc... And the raven cages for sending messages to Castle black during their journey. Ravens that are falling under Sam's responsibility.

In the faint morning light, here they go, in two columns, under the ice tunnel that leads to dangerous places where rare men ever have wondering around. Lord Mormont rides at their lead, Jon on his side and Ghost already running for the woods.

At Castle Black, a steward is making the round of the brother's chambers; letters and messages in his hands. He enters Jon's quarters and puts one squared folded paper on his pillow, the seal of a Direwolf softly shimmering as he closes the door again. On the side, a fine and round handwriting is mentioning 'From the Lady Ylliria Bennett at Castle Winterfell'.

.

"A white raven arrived from the Citadel this morning, Your Graces. The Conclave have met, considered reports from the Maesters all over the Seven Kingdoms and with the appearance of the comet with a red tail in the sky to confirm their thoughts. They declared this great summer over. This was the longest summer in living memory." Maester Luwin explains at the morning council, rolling the paper he was reading from.

"Maester Luwin, please, you should not call me that. I'm nor a Princess, nor a Queen." Ylliria humbly comes.

"Just my wishes speaking out loud, My Lady." He smiles.

"But, we are Princes, are we?" Rickon says, gesticulating on his seat.

"Oh, stop bragging already." Bran cuts him.

"Yes, you are a Prince, my Sweetling." She softly laughs.

"And a long summer will lead to a long winter, isn't it Maester?" Bran alleges a serious look on his face. "We should prepare for it and harvest at least once more and use all the fields, even the fallow lands, to plant wheat, barley, peas, turnips, carrots and all long-life vegetables. And I forgot hay for the animals."

"In our stocks, we have enough for a winter of at least five years, Your Grace. It should be sufficient I think." Maester Luwin rapidly going through the inventory books.

"That is without counting the growing number of refugees that are arriving every day on our lands, fleeing the war. We certainly can't let them suffer." Ylliria comments.

"We will try to find them shelter and use all the able-bodies men and women to work on the fields and help our peasants." Bran stands. Ylliria looks at him with tenderness and wonders how fast he had grow to a little Lord now.

"Let us start with this morning hearings will you, My Lady, Your Graces." Maester Luwin makes a small gesture of his head to ask the Guard to let in the first claimant.

A limping old Lord enters. "My Lady, My Lords, might the Old Gods watch over your betrothed and brother and all our Northern sons." He clears his throat. "The walls of my hold-fast will not stand a winter. The mortar goes back to King's Aerys' reign and I'm afraid the masons today are not fit to carry their father's hammers. At night, you can hear the winds howling through the gaps and when it rains, water is dropping from every corner of the roof." He explains.

"Maintenance of a hold-fast generally falls to the Lord of the hold-fast." Maester Luwin calmly says.

"Generally yes, but I've send all the young men off to fight Robb Stark's war." The old Lord protests.

"King Robb!" Bran corrects. "And it's not his war. He didn't choose it."

"Maybe not, My Lord, but he called in his banners and took the men."

"Joffrey killed my father, your liege Lord. Do you remember your vows, Sir?" The young Lord firmly asks.

"Of course I remember!" He protests even more.

Ylliria passes a little note to Maester Luwin, who reads it before given the council's decision. "We can spare four masons for a week, My Lord. Would that be sufficient to repair your walls?"

"I believe it will." The Old Lord says a little bit unsecured before leaving the room.

"I didn't like the way he talked about Robb." Bran whispers when he was gone.

"Nor did I." Ylliria answers. "But you put him right back in his shoes, didn't you?" She gives him a little knock with her elbow and smiles at him, making him giggle.

.

The contingent of Brother's of the Night Watch is slowly going through the Haunted Forest, helped by the maps that Sam retrieved from the old Library.

Whitetree is already the fourth Wildling's village they encounter during their journey. Another place with one-room log cabins, roofed with sod and windows shuttered with old pieces of hide that surrounding a well. At the slight difference that Whitetree was shield by a gigantic Weirwood spreading his branches wide over the whole village. Jon had never seen such a monster in his entire life. It was not really the size of it that impressed him, but the face carved in his trunk, especially the mouth, large enough to swallow a sheep.

Lord Mormont dismount his horse and orders some of his men to make the round of the houses.

"There's nothing here, My Lord." One of the Brothers says.

"There all gone. They even took their animals with them." Another tells.

"Like the three others we already passed."

"What do you think happened to them?" Jon dares asking.

"None of the them showed any signs of attack. So, honestly, I don't know." The Lord Commander mumbles. "We will stay overnight. Prepare the camp!" He orders around.

.


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39: Beyond the Wall

Late that day, the contingent of Brother's of the Night Watch are arriving near another village.

After eight days of nonstop rain and mild temperatures, the tracks are just a long puddle of mud and their supply sledge is stuck in a rut. "Having a rough time with it?" Jon asks Sam.

"That think didn't kill me yet." His friend replies.

"Your ass killed it, that's what it is." Grenn grumbles.

"You offered me a ride!"

"Just that you would shut up about your damn blisters!" He pulls hard on the horse reigns to make him march.

Jon dismounts and helps Sam to push behind the sledge that finally starts to slide again.

Another hour and they're are in sight of Craster's Keep. A pig sty, an empty sheepfold, a well and a long, low windowless sort of hall made with logs and roofed with sod makes it hard to call it a village.

"Hey, are those girls?" Sam points out.

"That's Craster's daughters." Brother Eddison Tollett, often called Dolorous Edd, answers.

"I haven't seen a girl in six months." The chubby man sighs.

"And I would keep it that way, if I were you." Edd retorts.

"Why, he doesn't like to see people messing with his daughters?" Grenn intervenes.

"He doesn't like people messing with his wives." The brother smirks, making them all look at him in a odd way. "He marries his daughters. And they are giving him more daughters. And on and on it goes."

"That's foul." Sam makes a disgusted face.

"That's beyond foul." Grenn adds.

"All the other Wildlings for hundred leagues around have disappeared. But, Craster's still here. He must have something right." Edd leaves them.

"What happens to the boys? If he marries his daughters, what does he do with his sons?" Jon wonders.

"Maybe it's better not to know. But so long as Craster gives us a hot meal and a chance to dry our clothes, I'll be happy." Grenn says going back to the sledge.

.

Jon rejoins his Lord Commander, entering Craster's house by going through doors made of two flaps of deerskin. It is a simple room, with a sleeping loft above reached by a pair of rough ladders and a grand fire-pit in the air is heavy with smoke made by the rain dripping in the flames.

"You said he plans his stop here, on its way to the Frostfangs." Lord Mormont says, warming up his hands above the fire.

"People made all sorts of plans, but I haven't seen Benjen Stark for about three years and haven't missed him. He always treated me like scum." Craster burps and takes another sip of his wine. "And hadn't any good wine in a long time either. You, Southerners, make good wine, I give you that." He smirks.

"We're not southerners." Jon intervenes.

"Who's this little girl? You're prettier than half my daughters. Do you have a nice wet twat between your legs?" Craster guffaws. "What's your name?

"Jon Snow." He stares at the old man with a defying look.

"Ah, Snow? Well, listen to me, Bastard. All you from South of the wall, you're Southerners. But now, you're in the North. The real North."

"The lad meant no harm." Mormont defending his steward.

"If I catch that pretty little bastard talking to my daughters..." Craster's spitefully warns.

"No one will talk to your daughters, you have my word." Lord Commander promises him before turning his head to face Jon. "Now you, sit down and shut your mouth!"

The young man does as his been told, but still looks dagger at this horrible man that leads this so-called village.

"Mmmm... Have you brought in some more of that good wine?" Craster clicks his tongue in delight.

"We did so. We already passed through six villages on the way here. All of them were abandoned. You're the first living faces we've seen since we left the Wall. Where are all the Wildling's gone?" Mormont asks.

"I could tell you, but for the moment, I'm thirsty."

"There's a barrel of Dornish wine on the sledge, bring it in here." Mormont orders one of his men.

"Yes, Lord Commander."

"You want to know where they're all gone? North! Joining up with Mance Rayder... Your old friend."

"He ain't no friend of mine. He broke his vows, betrayed his brothers."

"Oh aye, but once he was just a poor black crow and now he is King beyond the Wall."

"He is calling himself that for years! What is he King of? A frozen lake somewhere?"

"That is a good looking ax." Craster changes the subject again, pointing at the thing in one of the brother's hand. "Fresh forged?"

"Give it here." Mormont asks his man. "I'll made another one make for you at Castle Black." He promises him, handing it to Caster.

"This is really lovely steel." He starts to examine it. "You want to know what Mance Rayder's doing? He's gathering an Army. From what I heard, he already got more men than any of your Southern's Kings."

"And where is he plan marching his Army?"

"When you're all the way North, there is only one direction to go!"

.

"Ylliria, I will go for a walk with Hodor and Osha." Bran says, finishing his breakfast.

"And where are you taking them now?" She softly asks.

"Just at the pond and to the Weirwood."

"All right. But, take Summer with you and do not come back too late. You still have your lessons with Maester Luwin."

"But?"

"No buts. We might have to call you 'Prince' and you are acting as Lord of Winterfell, I admit. It doesn't exempt you from knowledge."

"All right." He looks down.

"Huh, huh, not good enough. Look me in the eyes, young man and solemnly promise me." She smiles, taking his chin in her hand.

He widens his eyes and stares at her. "I promise." He says, smiling too. "I think that sometimes you are taking your role too seriously, Your Grace." Bran winks.

"Out of my sight, you wicked Prince!" She sends him away, both bursting into laughter.

Hodor carries Bran on his back in a sort of basket chair that Maester Luwin has drawn, following the sketches of Tyrion Lannister's saddle. "That way." The young Lord points out to the giant man.

"We're not going to the pond, aren't we?" Osha asks him. "You are having those dreams again."

"I don't dream." He answers.

"Everyone dreams!"

"I don't. I heard some of the men talking about the comet." He changes the subject. "They say it's an omen. It means Robb will win a great victory in the South."

"Did they?" She looks up and sees the tail leaving its long red sign in the sky. "I heard some other fools say its Lannister red. It means that soon they will rule over all the Seven Kingdoms. One of the stable-boys also says it's the color of blood, representing your father's death. That comet means only one thing, boy... Dragons!"

"Dragons are all dead and that for centuries... Look, see that we arrive at the pond. I know all the ways to it now!" He joyfully comes.

.

Lord Mormont continues his discussion with Craster. "These are bad times to be living alone in the Wilds. The cold winds are rising."

"Let them come. My roots are sunk deep." He grabs the arm of one of the girls near him. "Wife, tell the Lord Crow how content we are."

"This is our place." She says, not looking at anybody. "Our husband keeps us safe. Better to life free than die a slave." She goes away without another word.

"Doesn't that make you all jealous, old man? See me with all these young wives and you with none to warm your bed?"

"We chose different paths." Mormont calmly answers.

"Oh aye, you chose the path with no one but boys on it." Caster sniggers. "I suppose you wanna sleeping under my roof and to eat me out of pigs."

"A roof would be welcome... We've been hard ridding for days. But, we brought our own food and we have some good steel for you."

"Any man lays a hand on one of my wives will lose the hand." Craster goes up to show the others that the meeting is over. "And I see this one, staring too long." He points to Jon with his head. "I might gouge his eyes out."

"Your roof, your rules." Mormont leaves the place, followed by all his man.

Jon follows Lord Commander when suddenly Mormont takes him by the collar and pushes him against a beam. "Who am I?" He rudely asks him. "Who am I?" He raises his voice when he got no reaction from his steward.

"The Lord Commander." The young man answers a little bit hesitant.

"And who are you?"

"Jon Snow."

"WHO ARE YOU?" He pushes him hard against the beam again.

"Your steward."

"You want to lead one day?"

Jon nods.

"Then learn how to follow." He pushes him away and continues his way.

.


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter 40: Searching for peace

At the King of the North's encampment, the night slowly falls. From the watchtower, you can see all the braziers and torches burning, making the tents look like a whole city.

Robb, escorted by four guards, arrived at the prisoner's quarters. "Open the cage." He orders.

"At once, Your Grace." The soldier immediately complies.

He enters to face a chained up Jaime Lannister. "The King of the North!" The Lord scoffs. "I was expecting to end up in one of the cells of the first Castle in sight for safe keeping. But, you drag me along from one camp to another. Have you grows fond of me, Stark? Is that it? Do girls frighten you?"

"If I left you with one of my Bannermen, your father will know about it right away. My Bannerman will receive a raven with a message: Release my son and you'll be rich beyond your dreams. Refuse and your House will be destroyed from roof to cellar."

"You don't trust the loyalty of the men following you to battle?"

"Oh, I trust them with my life. Just not with yours."

"Smart boy... Oh, what's wrong? You don't like to be called 'boy'?... Insulted?" Jaime grins. Suddenly, a growl comes from behind him, making him tighten.

"You are insulting yourself, King-slayer. You've been defeated by a boy." Robb smirks, the roaring shadow making the round of the cage. "You've been held captive by a boy. And perhaps, you shall be killed by a boy."

Grey-wind, now being a full grown adult Direwolf, appears at the entrance of the cage next to Robb, his head arriving nearly at the young man's shoulder.

"Stannis Baratheon is sending out ravens to all the High Lords of Westeros. The King Joffrey Baratheon is neither a true King, nor a true Baratheon." Robb gently pets his wolf's head, while Jaime seems more and more uncomfortable by its sight. "He is your bastard son, isn't it?"

"If that is true, Stannis is the rightful King. How convenient for him."

"My father knew the truth. That's why you made him executed."

"I was your prisoner when Ned Stark lost his head." He tries to defend himself, his eyes pinned in those of the Direwolf.

"Your son killed him so the world wouldn't know you fathered him and you... You pushed my brother from a window because he saw you with the Queen." He closes his fist in Grey-wind's thick fur, making it growl again.

"Do you have proof? Or you want to trade some gossips like a couple of fishwives."

"I'm sending your cousin down to King's Landing with my peace terms."

"And you think my father is going to negotiate with you? You don't know him very well."

"No, but he is starting to know me."

"Three victories don't make you a conqueror."

"It's always better that three defeats." Robb lets Grey-wind loose. Its slowly approaches Jaime, baring his teeth and snapping its mouth shut right before his nose, making the Lord think he would bite his face off. Jaime closes his eyes, awaiting. But when he opens them again, he realizes the wolf had vanish.

.

Ylliria staggers through the Castle courtyard. Smoke from the fires around makes her cough. Her arms and legs are hurting and her gown is in rags. She looks around, kneeling to every body laying on the ground, hoping to still find someone alive or someone she knew. "An armor." She whispers, running to it. She grabs the man by his mail-coat, but while she lifts him, his head dangles weirdly on the side, half severed. There is where she recognizes Lord Eddard Stark, his eyes and mouth wide open, staring at her. She let out a scream, dropping him and running away. Blinded by the fog, she bumps against a beam just before the door, leading to the Castle kitchens. She rubs her forehead, feeling a little dizzy. Her eyes falling on two feet spread in front of her. She lifts her head, following along the legs, the torso and finally the visage. "Robb!" She yells, falling on her knees next to him. "Say something, please." She pleads, taking his face between her hands and softly shaking it. "Robb, please, wake up! Come, I'll help you to your bed. I'll heal your wounds." She stutters, crying.

A hand on her shoulder makes her startle. "He's dead." A low voice says. "It's all my fault."

She slowly turns her gaze to the man's voice, it's Jon's. She jumps on her feet and finds refuge in his arms. "Take me away from here, please. Take me away, Jon." She whispers in his ear.

He grabs her, putting one arm under her knees and another under her shoulder, and takes her inside the Castle. Once the door closed and barred, it seems that all the battle noises, the bad smells and the fear vanished at once.

"I should have come back." Jon says with a husky voice as he gently make her sit on the long table in the Grand Hall.

"You couldn't know. Message to the Wall are hard to send." She explains. "I tried several times, but only receive one letter back from you... I supposed you didn't get them all."

"I knew about Robb going to war. I knew about father being killed by those Lannisters and still I did nothing."

"You swear the oath." She softly says, putting a hand on his cheek and smiling at him. He comes closer to her, digging his fingers in her long auburn tangled hair and kisses her deep.

When all of a sudden, the door slams open, splintering the beam like it was a stick. A huge white horse enters in a din of clogs against wood. The horseman, dressed in a red and black armor emblazon with a lion's head, holds a shining long-sword in his right hand. He makes his mount move forward, obliging Jon to step back from Ylliria. She is panic-stricken, impossible for her to move a muscle. Lord Tywin Lannister looks down at her, a nasty grin on his face. He rears up his horse before making a half-turn and leaving the place.

Ylliria wakes up in a start again, looking through the window, she realizes it's still the middle of the night. She light the candle on her table and grabs the book next to it, starting to read.

_._

"You are Sir Alton Lannister?" Robb asks the young man in front of him.

"I am, Your Grace."

"I offer your cousins' peace, if they meet my terms." The King of the North looking around his table where is close council is gathered. "First, your family must release my sisters and provide them with transport from King's Landing to White harbor by sea. It is understood that Sansa's betrothal to Joffrey is at an end. Second, my Lord father's bones must be returned to us, so he may rest besides his brother and sister in the Crypts beneath Winterfell, as he would have wished. And the remains of all those who died in his service at King's Landing must also be returned. So, their families can honor them with proper funerals."

"An honorable request, Your Grace."

"Third, Joffrey and the Queen Regent must renounce all claims to dominion over the North. From this time till the end of time, we are a free and independent Kingdom."

"The King of the North!" Rodrik Cassel comes, proudly looking at the young man he trained his entire life.

"Neither Joffrey nor any of his men shall set foot in our lands again. If he disregards this command, he shall suffer the same faith as my father... Only, I do not need a servant to do my beheading for me."

"These are... Your Grace..." Alton stutters.

"These are my terms." Robb rises from his chair. "If the Queen Regent and her son meet them, I'll give them peace. If not, I will litter the South with Lannister dead." He hands the rolled and sealed letter to Lord Umber for his to pass it to the Sir Lannister.

"King Joffrey is a Baratheon, Your Grace." The young Lord comes.

"Oh, is he?" The King mocks him. "You'll ride at daybreak. That will be all for tonight." He adjourned the meeting. Two guards are taking Lord Alton Lannister back to his cell and the small council is leaving the tent.

Only Theon stays, pouring himself another cup of wine. "A word, Your Grace?" He asks.

"You don't have to call me that when nobody's around." Robb says.

"It's not so bad, once you get used to it." Theon shrugs, smiling.

"At least, someone is getting used to it."

"The Lannister's are going to reject your terms, you know."

"Of course, they will." Robb slowly ruffles in Grey-wind's fur.

"You fight them in the field as long as you like. But, we won't beat them until we take King's Landing." Theon pauses. "And we can't take the Capital without ships. My father has ships and men who know how to sail them."

"Men who fought my father before." Robb remarks.

"Men who fought King Robert to free themselves from the yoke of the South. Just like you are doing now. Where's the difference?"

"Why would Lord Balon listen to you? You're with us for ten years already."

"I'm his only living son. He'll listen to me. I know he will. I'm not a Stark, I know that. But, your father..." Theon sighs. "He raised me to be an honorable man. We can avenge him together. I want to be at your side when we'll cut their throats and hear them squealing like pigs."

Robb at the entrance of his tent, looks at his encampment, at all the men that followed him to war. He wonders how many of them will return safe to their homes and castles. He discreetly takes Ylliria's locket between his fingers and gently caresses it, wondering what she might be doing right now. "All right." He suddenly says. "Leave as soon as you can. I'll write a letter for your father with a rough draft of an alliance act."

_._


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter 41: Gone with the wind

Send as envoy by Robb, King of the North to discuss an alliance with Lord Balon Greyjoy, Theon is on board a ship back to Pyke, capital of the Iron-Islands and name of the family Castle. He leans against the ship's rail and admires the view of the storm-worn fortress built atop of several rocky towers jutting out of the sea and connected to the main island by a treacherous-footed rope bridge. "It's still as dark and dreadful as I remembered it. But, I'm older now and fearless." He smirks at the imposing fasthold that slowly grows as they're approaching the shore. In the sky behind it, the fine red tail of the comet is visible through the clouds. "It's my Comet; as good as a crown." He tells himself.

Theon goes down to his cabin where the Captain's daughter is waiting for him, naked on the bed. Not that he like her much, with her hips a little too broad for his taste, her breast too small and her uneven teeth. But, she was the only woman on board, the crossing was slower than foreseen, due to the lack of wind and there was not much else to do anyway. So, with a few cups of strong wine, he could imagine being with someone else.

"You must be so happy to see your home again, m'Lord. How many years have you been away?" She gently asks.

"Ten or close as makes no matter." He throws his cloak on a chair.

"Is it as you remembered it, m'Lord?"

"It looks smaller." He gets rid of his doublet.

"Everything looks bigger when you are a child. I remember when I was a girl; my father's cabin looked like a palace. And look at it now." She giggles.

"They'll be waiting for me on the docks." Theon continuing to undress.

"Who would?"

"Anyone who matters. It's a big day for them." He brags, sliding his shirt above his head. "They haven't had much to get excited about since I left." He removes his boots. "It's a hard place, the Iron-Islands. Always has been." He throws them in a corner. "It's cold and it's wet."

"I love the cold and wet." The girl says.

"They say that hard places breed hard men. And hard men rule the world." He grins.

"And you'd be King not before long, m'Lord." She laughs, starting to unlace his breeches.

"You better smile with your lips closed. I already told you that!" He harshly comes, pushing her on the bed.

"I could go ashore with you, if it pleases you. I'd work in your castle. I'm a good cook. And I could warm your bed at night." She shyly covers her private parts.

"You could go ashore. But not with me, I fear. I have other plans." He takes off her hand.

"My father doesn't trust you Iron-Islanders."

"I don't blame him." He stares at her, lying across his bunk. She slowly spreads her legs, letting him laying over her.

"He says you're all vandals and rapists. And no matter how many women you have, you never be satisfied..." She lets out a small cry when he enters her.

"Quit talking about your father!" Theon grunts. "But, he is right about us. The wives on the Iron-Islands are for breeding." He starts to give hard trusts in her. "But, that is not enough for us. That is why we have salt-wives, whenever and wherever we capture them."

"Capture me and take me with you, m'Lord. Let me be your salt-wife" She pleads as her pleasure rises.

"Your place is on this ship."

"Not after you'll leave. Father will punish me and call me a whore."

"I haven't paid you." He rises from the bed and pushes her head on his cock.

She starts to blow him. Theon closes his eyes and starts to imagine that it is Ylliria that is on her knees right now pleasuring him. "If she wants to be a Queen, I'll make her a Queen... I'll make her MY whore Queen!" He sneers at the thought of it, his climax arriving as sudden as a storm.

"Take me with you, m'Lord." The Captain's daughter pleads again, rubbing her mouth with the back of her hand.

"No can do. My future bride would not like it. Once I'll marry her, she will be the only one, I swear" Theon puts back his breeches, a bright smile on his face.

.

"You don't want Balon Greyjoy for an ally." Catelyn Stark says, giving her son a cup of fresh water.

"I need his ships. Theon says his father has two-hundred."

"They say a million rats are living in the sewers of King's Landing. Shall we rally them to fight for us?"

"I understand you don't trust Lord Greyjoy."

"I don't trust Lord Greyjoy, because he is not trustworthy." She pours a glass for her too. "Your father had to go to war to end his rebellion."

"Yes... And now I'm the one rebellion against the throne. Before me, it was father. You married one rebel and mothered another."

"I mother more than just rebels. In fact, you seem to have forgotten."

"If I trade the King-slayer for two girls, my Bannermen will string me up by my feet."

"You want to leave Sansa in the Queen's hands?" Catelyn raises her voice. "And Arya... I haven't heard a word about her. Why are we fighting for if not for them?"

"It's more complicated than that! You know it is!" He yells and already regretting he did. It's one of the first times he screams after his mother.

Catelyn stays in shock for a moment. "I think it's time for me to go home." She says in a calmer tone. "I haven't seen Bran and Rickon in months. I can't let Ylliria managing Winterfell all by herself anymore. It's not fair."

At her name, Robb raises his head and heavily sighs. "You can't go to Winterfell." He darkly says.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'll send Rodrik to watch over the boys. Thus tomorrow, you are riding South to the Storm Lands."

"Why in the name of all the Gods, would you..."

"Because I need you to negotiate with Renly Baratheon." He cuts her. "He has rallied an Army of one hundred thousand men. You know him. You know his family."

"I haven't seen Renly Baratheon since he was a boy. You have a hundred other Lords."

"Which of these Lords do I trust more than you?" He rises from his bench and comes close to his mother. "If Renly sides with us, we outnumber the Lannister's two to one. When they feel the jaws beginning to shut, they'll sue for peace. We'll get the girls back and we'll all go home... For good."

She finally nods. "I will ride at first light."

"We'll all be together again soon, I promise." He kisses her on her forehead.

"You've done so well. Your father would be proud."

He wants to tell her all the things he has in his head, finally confess it all. But, as he looks in her eyes, he renounces. "Give Lord Renly my regards." Robb says just before going out of his mother's tent.

"King Renly..." She scoffs. "There's a King in every corner now."

.

Theon disembarks from the ship and is brought ashore by a rowboat. He goes up the side stairs in a hurry, but once arrived on the docks, no one is there to cheer for him like he expected. He looks annoy, barely holding his fury.

"Whatch'you carrying?" An old man, cleaning a fishing basket, asks him.

"Myr's oranges... Wine from the Arbor." Theon slowly marches to him. "And the heir to Pyke and the Iron-Islands."

The man shrugs, unconcerned.

"The only living son of Balon Greyjoy?... Me!" He insists.

"I don't like wine. It's woman's drink." The old man just answers.

"I need to get to Pyke." He briskly says. Seeing no reaction from the man, he finally understands what he is waiting for. He goes in his doublet pockets and takes out a few coppers.

"I'll get you a horse." The lad nonchalantly leaves.

"I'm heading that way. I can take you there." A woman's voice comes behind Theon.

"I bet you can." He turns around and starts to smirks at her sight.

"You be at sea long? Or there are just no women where you came from." She blandly asks him, not impressed nor shocked by his kinky look.

"None like you, for sure." He continues to stare at her figure from top to bottom.

"You don't know how I'm like." She comes in a flirty tone.

"You don't know how you like. You need someone to teach you."

She smirks for an answer.

"Do you know who I am?" Theon asks.

"Do you think I offer free rides to every men in jewelry?... Lord Greyjoy."

.


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter 42: Harvest time.

Winterfell is having their seasonal Harvest feast. Since it might be the last one before the winter settles in, Winterfell Castle has decided to put on a marvelous spread. Eight long rows of tables plus the honor table on the platform fill the Grand Hall.

"Winterfell! Winterfell!" All the guests shout when Bran, Rickon and Ylliria are entering. Hodor and Osha are helping the young Lord to sit on his fathers' high seat.

"I bid you all welcome in name of my brother, the King of the North, and I ask you to thank the Gods old and new for Robb's victories and the bounty of this harvest. May there be a hundred more to come." He finished, raising his father's silver goblet.

"To a hundred more!" The guests cheering with him, before sitting down on the benches.

"You did well, Bran." Maester Luwin tells him. "Your father would have been most proud."

During the agape, the musicians Lord Wyman had taken with him, are playing bravely and quit well, despite the tide of talks, laughter and the clash of cups and plates.

As the formalities request it, the serving men are bringing every dish to Bran first, so he may choose the Lord's portion. But there were so many of them that after a few plates, the little boy could eat no more.

"Bran, you do not eat." Ylliria says as she sees him waving away the next courses without taking anything.

"I'll have some more later. For now, my belly is full to bursting!" He gently smiles at her.

"You have done well, Sweetling. Here, and at the audiences. You will be an especial fine Lord one day." She proudly comes, laying a kiss on his cheek.

"I wish mother and Robb were here." He sadly says.

"Me too, my Sweet Prince, me too." She puts a hand over his.

On the benches below, Winterfell men are sitting next to the small-folks from Wintertown, friends from the nearer holdfasts or the escorts of their lordly guests; all in a joyful mix.

Maester Luwin, that was busy to talk with some at a table, comes back accompanied by two young ones. "My Lord, may I introduce you to the Lady Meera of House Reed and his brother Jojen of Greywater Watch. Lord Howland Reed was a good friend to your father."

"Be very welcome, Lady Meera and Lord Jojen. Please share this meat and mead with us." Bran says in a serious tone, holding out one arm to invite them at his side.

"Our Lord father has sent us here to swear once more our fealty to the King of the North." Meera alleges.

"My brother Robb is fighting in the South, but be assured that your words will be reported to him." He lightly salutes. "I'm Brandon Stark. This is my little brother Rickon." He points at him. "And this is my older brother's betrothed, the Lady Ylliria Bennett."

Meera, near Robb's age, curtseys to the Lady, while Jojen, several years younger than his sister, gracefully bows. Osha is putting two new chairs at Bran's left side for them to sit.

The boy looks around the Hall as he takes his seat. "Where are the Direwolves?" He asks Bran.

"In the Gods Woods. As they grow up, they were starting to frighten some of our people." The little Lord answers.

"My brother would love to see them, if this pleases you." Meera smiles.

"That can be arranged. We could have a walk tomorrow morning. How long have you decided to stay in Winterfell?" Bran says, very pleased about their request.

"As long as you permit us to stay, My Lord." Jojen replies.

"Please call me Bran. I'm not at ease with the title yet." He smiles.

The three young ones continue to chat together the rest of the evening, Bran even bursting into laughter a couple of times.

"I think he's making new friends." Ylliria leans towards Maester Luwin.

"I was sure they would get along those three." He winks at her.

When the food was cleared from the tables, it was time for the dancing, the music suddenly growing wilder.

One of the Umber's men seized a passing serving girl by the arm, whirling and spinning her around the room. Others soon joined in. Even Hodor began to dance all by himself, a wide smile over his face.

Bran watched long enough to be polite, he started to be hot and tired and a little bit flushed from the strong wine he drank. "May I be excuse? I want to go now." He asks Maester Luwin.

"Certainly, My Lord." He summons Hodor. "Take him to his bedchamber." He orders the giant.

.

Theon has mounted behind the young woman on a fast horse. "You should give me the reins." Theon says when they start the climbing up the first rock. "I'm a better rider that you. I've past most of my time at horseback for the last nine years."

"Nine years. Do you still know your way around a ship? Have these hands ever touched a rope?"

"Don't you worry about my hands!" He slides one of them in her corsage. "The sea is in my blood." He whispers in her ear.

"Your blood will end up in the sea if I don't watch where I'm going." She softly answers, withdrawing his hand.

"I have a proposal for my father. Something that will make him King again." He goes down for her breeches. "And me after him. You may stay at the Castle tonight, if you're lucky." He strokes back and force, gently kissing her neck.

"Is that an offer from my future King?"

"It's an order from your future King." He tries to kiss her lips, but she turns her head away. "You can tell your grand-children about this night."

"I don't imagine this story fit for children." She smirks.

.

The next morning, Meera, Jojen and Bran, on Hodor's shoulders, are going to the Gods Woods to see the Direwolves.

"Summer? Shaggydog? To me." Bran calls them when Hodor is putting him down on the floor, his back against a trunk.

"Here they come. Did you know they would be so big?" Meera asks her brother.

"They will be bigger still before they are fully grown." Bran explains.

"The black one is full of fear and rage, but the gray one is strong. Stronger than he knows. Can you feel him, Sister?" Jojen turning his head to Meera.

"No." She answers with a little fear in her voice. "Go careful, Jojen."

"He won't hurt you." Bran says. Jojen walks toward Shaggydog, unafraid and reached out for his muzzle, patting him gently. He starts to run, calling for the wolf to follow him.

"Don't go too far, Jojen." Meera screams. "Do they never grow angry?" She asks Bran.

"Not with me." He grabs his wolf by his ears, Summer snapping in play. "Sometimes he tears my garb, but he never really bites. Give me your hand." He holds his out. "He won't hurt you. He knows I like you." He comes when he sees her hesitating. Slowly, Meera approaches, giving her hand to Bran. He leads her to his wolf. "Scratch him on his forehead, he loves it." He smiles. Summer softly licks her hand, making the young girl giggle. "Tell me about your Castle at Greywater. How does it look like?"

"Oh, it very small, compare to Winterfell. And we do not have Knights, no Master-at-arms, no Maester." Meera explains, sitting beside him and Summer laying down between them, his head on Bran's lap.

"Who is keeping your ravens?"

"Ravens can't find Greywater Watch, no more than enemies could."

"Why not?"

"Because it moves." She mysteriously says.

"It moves? I wish I could see it. Do you think your Lord father would let me come to visit when the war is over?"

"You would be most welcome, My Prince. Then or now."

"Now? Ylliria and Maester Luwin would never let me go."

"Bran, it would be a good think for you to leave Winterfell."

"And why is that?"

Meera sighs and looks around to see if her brother was near. "Jojen has what we call 'the greensight'. He dreams things that haven't happened yet. But at the end, they do."

"Tell me what is going to happen?" Bran impatiently comes.

.


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43: Dreams and Nightmares.

Bran and the two Lord Reed's children are still discussing in the Gods Wood.

"Tell me what is going to happen to me?" Bran impatiently asks when Meera told him that his brother had a dream about him.

"Do you believe in the greensight?" She asks back at him.

"He has those kinds of dreams too, Meera." Jojen says.

"I don't. Maester Luwin gives me a sleeping potion." Bran defends himself.

"But you had dreams before, didn't you?"

"How do you know?"

"I heard the women talk about it at the well and the guards too. How loud you sometimes shout at night." Jojen explains.

"They do?" Bran's eyes widen.

"Tell us what is frightening you so much, Bran."

"I don't want to. And there are only dreams anyway."

"Before we arrived here, I had a dream of a young boy that was following a crow in a cave." Jojen starts to tell. "And when I saw you at the table, I recognized you. You were the boy from my dream."

"Did the crow have three eyes?" Bran asks with a little fear in his voice.

The young boy nods. "When I was little I almost died of a fever. That was when the crow came in my dreams for the first time."

"He came to me after I fell from the tower. I lay asleep for a long time. The crow told me that I had to fly or die. But, when I woke up, I was broken and could not fly at all." Bran blurts out.

"There is nothing to be afraid of in those dreams, Bran. You have to listen to the message." Meera softly says.

"Old-Nan told me that too one day."

"Well do it then! Truth is that sometimes the messages are not very clear and you have to interpret the signs. But, once you understand how, you will see the future, Bran." Jojen suddenly stops talking when he sees Hodor coming out of the bushes.

"It's time to go back. Belinda has prepared us a cold diner with yesterday's left overs."

Meera helps Bran to climb on the giant's shoulders and they all walk back to the castle in silence.

.

It is Jon's turn to mount guard at one corner of Craster's Keep in this icy night. He suddenly hears steps in the snow. He quietly raises and follows the shadow that walks into the woods. He approaches as much as he can without being spotted and discovers that the shadow is Craster himself carrying a new born baby in his arms. Jon decided to follow him. They go deep into the woods. For a moment, Jon lost track of the man. He stands still, listening to the sounds around. He hears a sort of screeching noise, like teeth scraping up, coming from straight ahead. Suddenly, Craster, empty handed, turns around and comes back in Jon's direction. The young man has just the time to hide behind a large trunk to watch him passing by. He still can hear the baby's droning and the screeching noise approaching. He runs towards it, grabbing his dagger at the same time. Just a few steps away from it, he freezes. A dark shadow comes near the baby, lying down at the foot of a Weirwood, a giant, ten feet at least with a pale face. Jon stays crouching, staring at the scene in front of him.

All at once, a hand grabs his shoulder from behind. He slowly raises his gaze to watch Craster lowering his mace to his head to knock him down.

.

Theon is preparing himself for his encounter with his father. He carefully chooses his garment, wanting to appear in front of him as a proud and healthy grown man. He puts on some silver-grey soft lambswool breeches, a black velvet doublet with the Kraken of the Greyjoys embroidered on his chest and black leather boots. To hold his cloak, he attaches a golden chain with a golden locket in the center and fastens a white leather belt around his waist, holding his longsword.

He walks through the long walkway leading to the Great Keep, his steps resounding on the stoned floor. His father has settled their reunion in the Grand Hall of the Sea tower. Before entering, Theon takes a last deep breath.

The only light in the room comes from a huge fire that is burning in the fireplace. "Father?" He calls.

"Nine years, is it?" A low voice comes from near the hearth. "They took a frighten boy. And what are they given back?"

"A man." He says, slowly marching to the center of the place, not seeing his father yet. "Your blood and your heir."

"We shall see. Stark had you longer than I did." Lord Balon grunts.

"Lord Stark's gone, beheaded by the Lannister Queen." The young man finally spots him sitting in a high bed-head chair, warming himself up in front of the open fire.

"And how do you feel about that?" His father finally turns around, piercing Theon with his deep sea blue eyes.

"What's done is done!" He hesitantly answers. "I brought you a proposal from Robb Stark..." He finds some courage to say, approaching a little more of his father's seat.

"Not so fast... Who gave you these clothes?" Lord Balon cuts him. "Is it Ned Stark's pleasure to make you his daughter?" He slowly stands on his feet.

"I am no man's daughter. If my clothes offend you, I will change them." Theon's gaze drops on the floor.

"Oh, you will!" His father says in a dark voice. "And that bauble around your neck, did you pay the iron price for it or the gold one?"

Theon touches the chain and the locket hanging over his chest.

"I asked you a question!" He thunders. "Did you pull it from the neck of a corpse you made? Or did you buy it to match your fine clothes?" He has moved forward till he is just a step away from his son. "Iron or gold?" His voice becoming sepulchral, his head nearly touching Theon's.

"Gold." The young man finally admits. Lord Greyjoy violently rips it off, making his son's cloak fall heavily on the floor.

"I won't have my own blood dressed as a whore." He walks back to the fireplace. "My fears have come true. The Starks have made you theirs." He throws the jewelry in the middle of it.

"You're wrong. My blood is still salt and iron!" The young man protests.

"And the Stark boy sends you to me like a well-trained raven, clutching his little message."

"There is nothing small about the letter I bear, father. And the offer he makes is one I suggested to him." Theon slowly starting to gain some confidence.

"The wolf pup heeds your councils?" Balon scoffs.

"I've lived with him, hunted with him, fought at his side. I have earned his trust. He thinks of me as a brother."

"Oh no, not here, not in my hearing... You will not name him brother!" His father threatens, marching towards him again. "This son of the man who put your true brothers to the sword. Have you forgotten your own blood?" He flings between his teeth, a few inches away from Theon's face.

"I forget nothing! I remember my brothers very well. And I remember the time when my father was a King too." He shows him the letter Robb had written with his proposal.

After a long moment staring at his son, Lord Balon finally takes the parchment from his hand and reads it. "I see, I destroy Robb Stark's enemies for him and he will make me King of the Iron-Islands once again."

"I will lead the attack myself, if it pleases you." Theon boldly says.

"Oh really? Will you?" His father's mocks him.

"I'm your son, your only living heir. Who else would...?" The door behind him suddenly goes open. "I told you to wait outside!" He calls to the woman who brought him to the Castle. "How did you pass the Guards anyway?"

"Everything with a cock is easy to fool." She smirks, passing by him and stopping next to Lord Balon.

"My dear." The old man softly kisses his forehead.

"Yara?" Theon says, aghast.

"So good to see you, brother." She slightly curtseys, in a mocking kind of way. "For sure, It is a homecoming I'll tell my grand-children about."

"She can't lead an attack!" The young man yells, slightly feeling awkward.

"And why not?" His father's asks.

"She's a woman!" He angrily comes, starting to feel he is not that welcome home.

"And you're the one in skirts." Yara scoffs.

"Have you gone mad?" Theon continues.

"Mind your tongue, boy! You are in Winterfell no more. I am the Greyjoy, Lord Reaper of Pyke, King of Salt and Rock, Son of the Sea Wind!" He bangs a fist on his chest several times. "Your sister took over command of your elder brother's ship after your new father killed him. What is dead will never die." Lord Balon ending his phrase with the Iron-Islands' quote, Theon repeating it after him, putting a hand across his heart. "Every night she was off this island, she's spending it on the sea. She's commanded men. She's killed men. She knows who she is!" He bends towards the fireplace again and burns Robb's proposal. "No man gives me a crown. I'll pay the iron price and will take my crown! And that is who I am! That is who we always been!"

"You won't stand a chance against the Lannisters on your own!" Theon says.

"Who said anything about the Lannisters?" Lord Balon laughs. "I am lurking in a different direction. Maybe not as prestigious, but easier to take right now… Finally having my sweet revenge." He leaves the room, Yara after him.

.


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter 44: Sea, snow and Land

Craster violently pushes Jon inside the hall. He falls heavily on the floor, his face full of blood from the beating the man had inflicted him. "OUT!" The man yells. "ALL OF YOU!"

Lord Commander Mormont is the first to rise from his uncomfortable straw bed.

"The bastard was been messing were he shouldn't!" He gives Jon another hard kick in the stomach with his leather boot. "I want you and your men gone at first daylight." He shows to Jeor the young man's long-sword. "And you will make this right!" He tosses it to him.

Jon arduously goes back on his feet, spitting the blood from his mouth.

"Wait outside." Mormont orders his steward.

"Lord Commander." Jon begs him to listen.

"NOW!" He thunders, looking dagger at him.

The young man reluctantly leaves the place, angrily smashing open the rags set as doors.

The time the Lord Commander gives orders to his men, he goes outside looking for Jon, the long-sword in his hand. He finds him sitting near the horses, Sam busy to take care of the wounds on his face. When Jon sees Mormont marching on him, he pushes Sam away and stands up.

"Leave us!" Lord Commander barks at Sam, who decamps at once. "What did you do?" He asks Jon.

"I was on watch duty, when I saw him walking out of the village. So, I followed him." The young man answers. "He took the baby into the woods, the new born."

"What business is that of yours?"

"You don't understand? He's killing them. He's killing all the boys!" Jon explains. He sees his Lord Commander's face changing. "You already knew that, do you? Why are you letting him do such things?" He slowly says.

"The Wildlings serve crueler Gods than you and I." The old man explains. "Those boys, there are his offerings."

"Offerings?" Jon is outraged. "He's murdering his own children. He is a monster!"

"Ah, well! Many times, that monster's been the difference between life and death for our rangers and your uncle among them. We have other wars to fight out there, boy. Like it or not, we need men like Craster."

"I saw it." Jon pauses. "I saw that thing... Something took that child."

"Whatever it was, I dare say, you'll see it again. Now, ready my horse. We leave at dawn." Mormont gives his long-sword back. "And don't lose it again!" He warns him.

In the gray morning light, the brothers of the Night Watch are preparing to let Craster's Keep behind them. Even if not said out loud, most of them are feeling relieved about it.

.

Bran is finishing his breakfast in the castle kitchens. The preoccupied look over his face didn't escape Ylliria.

"Is there something that is troubling you, Sweetling?" She gently asks him.

He stares at her for a moment, not sure if he wants to share his thoughts. But then, he doesn't have much people to talk to and he trusts her more than anyone else. "I had a strange conversation with Meera and Jojen yesterday. About the dreams I have." He sighs. "Jojen seems to have the same kinds and he says that there are greensights… Like messages from the future."

"And what do you think about it?"

"I don't know. That dream I had when father was put to death. And lately, there are those where I run in the woods like I was a wolf, like I was inside Summer."

She sits next to him, putting a gentle arm around his shoulder. "You know that we all dream. It's something natural. And some of them seems very real as you are really living them. In your case, I would say that because of your injury and that you are unable to do some of the things you liked to do in the past; those dreams are just a reflection of what you desire. Walking and running free."

"Do you have those kinds of dreams too, Ylliria?"

She shivers at the memory of the last two nightmares she had with Lord Tywin and Lord Stark and Robb. "Well, I had one the night after we learned your father's death." She lies. "But, it certainly was a nightmare brought by the sadness I felt. I suppose there must be a link between what we feel and what we dream."

"Jojen told that he had a dream about me before he arrived at Winterfell and that he recognized me when he saw me at the feast. He says that he had another dream where he received a warning that I had to leave Winterfell soon. That I was in danger." Bran slowly sounding afraid.

"My Sweet Prince, I really don't know what to tell to appease your worries. Those are subjects I'm not familiar with. Do you want me to talk with Jojen and ask him to stop frightening you?"

"No!" He harshly answers. "I'm not frightened, I'm just confused."

"Maybe it would be a good thing you talk to Maester Luwin about it. He must certainly know more on the subject. Don't you think?"

"Maybe I will, yes."

.

Theon is the first to enter the Grand Hall of Pyke's Castle. He looks around, trying to remember anything from his childhood. But no much time for daydreaming, his father and his sister are already arriving. "The plans are made. It's time you heard them." He briskly says to his son, Yara grinding behind him.

"Father." Theon bows when he passes near him.

"The wolf-pup is gone South." Lord Balon unfolds a map on the table. "With the entirety of the Northern army at his tail. While he is tangling with the Lion in the Westerlands, the North is ripe for the taking. The Iron-born will reave and pillage as it was in the old days, all along the Northern coast. We'll spread out dominion across the green lands, securing the Neck and everything above. Every stronghold will yield to us one by one. Winterfell may defy us for a year, but what of it. The rest should be ours. Forests, fields and homes." He looks at Theon and then turns to his daughter. "Yara, you take thirty long-ships to attack Deepwood Motte."

"Thank you father, I always wanted a Castle." She smirks.

"And what's my role in all this?" Theon angrily asks.

"You take a ship to raid the fisherman's villages on the Stony Shore."

"A ship? You gave her thirty and I get only one?"

"The 'Sea Bitch'. Oh, she'll be perfect for you!" Yara scoffs.

"And to fight fishermen?"

"Be careful of their nets."

Theon makes the round of the table to get closer to Lord Balon. "Father, I fought with Robb Stark, I know his men. He won't give up the North so easily."

"They won't even know we're there until it's too..." Yara.

"What do you know about it, woman?" Theon cuts her. "I am a proven warrior!"

"Your brothers were warriors. Both of them dead, by the hands of those you seem so eager to protect."

"I'm not protecting anyone. I just wonder if it's not wiser to wait. Why risk all against the North if they want to be our allies? Rise up against them and they will destroy us. But, if we pledge fealty to them, they'll give us Casterly Rock."

"What are our words?... Our words, Theon?"

"We do not sow." The young man states.

"We do not sow. We're Iron born. We're not subjects and we're not salves. We do not plow the fields or toil in the mines. We take what is ours. Your time with the wolves has made you weak, my son."

"You're acting like I was volunteered to go! You gave me away, if you remember! The day you bend the knee to Robert Baratheon, after he crushed you. Did you take what was yours then?" Theon's going angry.

Balon gives his son a huge slap in his face, sending him flying against the wall behind him.

"You gave me away!" Theon yells, as his father leave the Hall. "Your own boy!" Balon stops. "Your last boy! You gave me away like I was some dog you didn't want anymore. And now, you curse me because I've come home?" Despite all he is saying, Lord Greyjoy continues his way out.

"You want our father to bow in front of your other family?" Yara faces Theon.

"I have no other family!"

"Don't you?" She heads for the exit too. "Make your choice, Theon and do it quickly. Our ships will sail with or without you!"

At the light of a candle, Theon sitting on the table in his quarters, starts to write a message to Robb, warning him of his Lord father's intentions. He reads it several times, hesitating, thinking where his best advantage lays. With Robb, being a good and loyal friend; and maybe dying in the process with nothing much accomplished. Or with his father, despite the fact that he feels not welcome to this family he didn't remember much from and maybe becoming a King himself one day. "They don't sings songs about King's best friends, unknown dead body among the others on the field." He wonders. "I want to be someone the next ten generation will tell tales about. Glorifying, being imitated but never equaled." He slowly moves the paper near the flame and watches the message burning between his fingers. "I will show them all who Theon Greyjoy really is." He slowly rises from his chair, looking himself in the long mirror of his room and starts to smile.

.


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter 45: Full Sail Ahead!

"Practically every night is the same." Bran explains to Maester Luwin and Ylliria sitting next to him on his bed. "I'm walking and running, but... I'm not... I'm not me. I'm running to the Gods Wood sniffing the dirt, tasting blood in my mouth when I made a fresh kill. I'm howling. Old Nan used to tell me stories about magical people that could live inside stags, birds or wolves."

"These are exactly what they are, Bran, stories." Maester Luwin gently says.

"So, she was lying. They don't exist?"

"Well, they may have done. But, they're gone from the world now, along with much else. These are dreams, Bran, nothing more, I assure you."

"No... My dreams are different. Mine seems to be very true." He stubbornly alleges. "I dreamed of my father death. And Rickon had the same dream. And Ylliria told me she had nightmare of my father too, after he died, though. Tell the Maester, Ylliria, tell him what you saw." He turns to her.

"And what about all the dreams you had that didn't come true?" Maester Luwin gently laughs, tying to calm him down and rummaging on his chain. "This link is made of Valerian steel." He shows it to him. "Only one Maester out a hundred wears it on his chain. It'd signify that I have studied the higher mysteries. And all the ones who study these mysteries tried their hands at spells. I was no different. I was young." He softly smiles at the memory. "And what boy doesn't secretly wish for hidden powers, to lift him out of his dull life into a special one? But in the end, for all my efforts, I got no more out of it like a thousand boys before me. Come on, time for a good night sleep." He rises from the side of the bed to let Ylliria tuck him in. He sees the disappointment on Bran's face. "Maybe magic once was a mighty force in the world, but not anymore. The Dragons are gone; the giants are dead and the children of the forest, forgotten. Good night, Bran." He says before leaving the room.

Ylliria gently brushes away his hair from his face and kisses him on his forehead. "You believe me, do you?" Bran softly asks her.

"I believe you, my Mighty Prince. Some experiences are so strange to people that they prefer telling themselves that there are faults, instead of letting them laying awake in fear at night and see the truth in it. Just promise me something thing, don't stop living your life and don't shut yourself away from all the people that loves you."

"I promise." Bran says, looking in her eyes to prove he means it.

"And if those dreams have an explanation, it will come by itself. The Gods will tell you in due time, Sweetling. Sleep well now and do not fear." She smiles, blowing out the candle on his night stand.

_._

In front of his father and sister, and their Bannermen, Theon accepts to be baptized in honor of the Drown God, embracing thereby the faith of his forefathers. His feet in the water, Theon listens to the priest. "Theon of the House Greyjoy, do you on this day consecrate your body and soul to the Drown God?"

"I swear." He solemnly proclaims.

"Kneel!" The Priest orders him, placing his two hands above the young man's head. "That Theon, your servant, can be born again from the sea as you were. Bless him with salt." He pours sea water on Theon's forehead. "Bless him with stone. And bless him with steel."

"What is dead may never die." Theon answers.

"What is dead may never die." The priest repeats. "But rises again stronger than ever. And stand proud to be an Ironmen!"

Theon turns a serious face towards his father, hoping for a smile or a gesture of his sister. But, nothing came. They're just turning their backs at him and walk towards the castle. Even no feast to celebrate this event was foreseen, giving Theon a little bit more disappointment to chew on.

.

A long column of Brothers of the Night's Watch are climbing higher in the mountain called the Fist of the First Men. Men and horses' steps are heavy and made arduous due to the everlasting snow.

"He is not here yet. He would have seen us and blown the horn" Commander Mormont explains to Jon.

"When will he come?" The young man asks.

"Qhorin Halfhand does things in his own time."

"He is a legend. My uncle told me stories about him."

"Most of them are true."

"I hurt that Halfhand had pas half of last winter behind the Wall.

"The whole winter! He was north of the Skirling Pass when the snows came. He had to wait for the thaw."

"So, it is possible that someone survive out here on their own?"

"Oh well, possible for the Halfhand."

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Sam calls out just behind them. "Pyp would love it here!"

"There is nothing more sickening than a man in love!" Dolorous Edd jokes, making Grenn chuckle.

Arrived on top, on a plateau, the Lord Commander decides to set camp and wait for Qhorin's men coming from Shadow Tower. All the brothers have their duties. They start to dig trenches or setting up tents or making fires and braziers or taking care of the horses. Around the camp, Mormont had posted some guards with the orders to report anything moving in the mountains.

"The Fist of the First Men, think how old this place is." Sam joyfully says to Edd. "Before the Targaryens defeated the Andals. Even before the Andals took Westeros from the First Men."

"Before I die, I'm begging you, stop talking!" The brother mumbles.

"Thousands of thousands of years ago... The First Men stood here, exactly where we are now, along through the long night." Sam continues, not minding Dolorous' complain. "What do you thing they were like, the First Men?"

"Stupid! Smart people don't settle themselves in places like this." Edd says.

"I think they were afraid. I think they came here to get away from something. But, I don't think it worked." Jon darkly says. He seems to be preoccupied since they arrived on the plateau.

They suddenly hear the horn and stop what they are doing. Jon grabs the handle of his longsword.

"Wildlings?" Grenn asks.

"One blast if for rangers returning. Wildlings is two." Sam explains.

"Look, it's the Halfhand." Jon points at the horizon.

"Aye! We will live through another day. Hurray!" Edd going back to his duties.

.

Theon is preparing to cast off with the 'Sea Bitch', the only long-ship that his father has given him to command. He waits for his crew on the dock. Dressed in full Greyjoy's combat armor, he proudly watches his ship, anchored further down in the bay. He suddenly hears some loud voices and guffaws coming down the little hill. "You're the crew of the Sea Bitch?" He calls. "I'm your commander. Welcome." None of the men are paying the slightest attention to him. "STOP!" He yells. They embark in the two rowboats, throwing their duffel, continuing to talk. "Your captain commands you to stop!"

The sailors are finally turning their heads towards him. "Where are we heading, Captain?" A bald guy with a prominent belly says in a mocking tone.

"To Stony Shore, making some reaves on their villages and seizes loot and women, if you do your jobs well." He replies, a self-righteousness grin on his face.

"And who decides if we're done our jobs well?" The same man requests.

"I do." He goes down the few steps that separate the dock from the pier. "I'm your captain."

The seamen start to laugh.

"I've been reaving and raping since before you left Balon's balls, Captain. Don't reckon I've got much use for your ideas on how to do it. Don't reckon I've got much use of a Captain at all. I'm thinking I can do the job of a Captain real well myself." He says in a defying tone. "All I need is a ship. You wouldn't know where I can find myself a ship, would you?" He winces, showing a row of rotten teeth, before jumping into the rowboat.

"You can do that! Take the ship on go on your own. But I will hunt you down, drag you back here in chains and hang you for a traitor." Theon tries to keep his composure.

"STOP! WE YIELD!" A woman's voice comes from the other side of the dock. The men are directly welcoming Yara. "Congratulation on your first command." She says to her brother.

"Thank you. Kind of you to see me off."

"Oh, I'm not here for you. I was just on my way to Red Harbor. I've got thirty ships. There is nowhere to put them here. Too narrow." She brags, waiting for Theon's reaction.

"Better get out there, then. You don't want that they set sail without you." He miserably answers.

"That would never happen. My crew would wait on deck for me an entire year if I ask them to. Those, on the other hand..." She points at Theon's men rowing away without him. "Enjoy the Stony Shore!" She guffaws.

"Come with me. I'll take you on board." A low voice comes from behind him.

"And who are you?" Theon suspiciously asks.

"Dagmer, your first-mate." He reaches out his hand to take his duffel.

"Why are you not with the rest of them?" Greyjoy says, vexed. "Or do they send you to dump me into the see on our way up there. That will be good for a laugh."

"They are not gonna respect you until you've proven yourself." He walks him to the second rowboat.

"And how am I supposed to prove myself by pillaging some poor fisherman's villages."

"You're not!"

"Well that's the task my father's given me, to prove I'm a true Iron-Islander!"

"There are all Iron-Islanders. But, do they do as their told? Or do they do as their like?" Dagmer looks in Theon's eyes.

"Stony Shore is not far from Torrhen's Square." The young Lord wonders, understanding what his first mate insinuates.

"The siege of the House of Tallhart, more impressive price than a few fisherman's daughters, for sure." His first mate smiles.

Theon continues to plot in his head.

"What? You think we can't take it?" Dagmer wonders.

"No, we could. But, not sure we can hold it for more than a few days. Soon as Winterfell hear word that we've taken it, the Starks will send their men to take it back. Unless..." Theon suddenly starts to grin. "Take me to my ship."

_._


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter 46: Salted waters in Winterfell

Rodrik Cassel briskly enters Winterfell Grand Hall just before the morning Council finishes. "Lord Stark!" He calls. "Torrhen's Square is under siege."

Bran frowns, a concerned look coming over his face.

"It's barely forty leagues from here. How come the Lannisters are striking so far North?" Maester Luwin wonders.

"Might be a raiding party lead by Clegane The Mountain or sell-swords paid by Tywin Lannister."

"We have to help them." Bran stands.

"Most of the fighting men are away with Robb, but I can gather two hundred decent men." Rodrik alleges.

"You need so many?" Luwin comes.

"If we can't protect our own Bannermen, why should they protect us?" Bran explains him.

"The sword and bow lessons we gave to our people may be useful now to hold Winterfell the time Sir Rodrik is gone." Ylliria proposes.

"Aye!... Go, Sir Rodrik. Take as many as you need." The young Lord orders.

"Won't take long, My Lord. Southerners never did very well up here." The Master-at-Arms bows before promptly leaving the Hall.

Ylliria is looking away from Bran, trying not to show her concerns and the fear rising in her. But, he isn't fooled and gently puts a hand over hers. "Don't worry, My Lady. War might be at our door step, but we won't let them have supper with us."

"You are really talking like a Lord, Bran." Maester Luwin smiles.

_._

After the fail of the mission her son had send her to - Trying to reconcile the two Baratheon brothers, Stannis and Renly and making an alliance with them – and also due to Renly's sudden strange death, Catelyn Stark, accompanied by her new guardian Brienne of Tarth, are arriving within sight of the Stark's host encampment.

Both women are immediately brought to the King's tent. As soon as Robb sees his mother entering, he dismisses his daily War Council. "I'm so glad to see you back safe and sound." He takes her in her arms.

"Unfortunately, my son, the Gods were not with us this time, I'm afraid."

"I heard about Renly's death. What happened?" He leads Catelyn to a seat and finally notices Brienne, still standing at the entrance.

"Robb, this is Brienne of Tarth."

"Your Grace." The tall and muscular woman respectfully bows.

"Brienne was a fresh member of the King's guard and one of the closest person around Renly."

"A woman?" Robb makes a surprised face. "I though King Renly had a hundred thousand men with him."

"As you may see, I'm far from a Lady and I always dreamed to be a knight, Your Grace."

"I saw her winning Renly's last tournament. She defeated Loras Tyrell, the knight of flowers. It was a fair fight, won with honor. She is really skilled at arms." Lady Starks explains.

"Stunning!" Robb exclaims. "Well, Brienne of Tarth, you are very welcome here. I'll try to find you a fitted place in my host, as your capabilities request."

"Thank you, Your Grace. But, I swore an oath of fealty to your mother and I am now her sworn sword."

The King turns towards Catelyn. "I would like to keep her with me, Robb. I feel safer with her than any of your guards. Not doubting of their loyalty and skills of course..."

"I understand. So be it." He answers. "So, tell me everything that happened, mother." He sits down, inviting Brienne to do the same.

.

Bran's bedroom door suddenly crashes open. A stranger, carrying a dirk in his hand, enters.

"What do you want?" Bran demands. "This is my room. You get out of here!" He yells as the man smirks.

"We're not here to harm you, Bran." Theon comes from behind his man.

"Theon? Did Robb send you? Is he here too?" Bran says full of hope.

"Robb's far away. He sent me back to Pyke where I could talk to my father again."

"Why would my brother do such a thing?"

"He needed ships..." Theon stops, suddenly realizing that he was talking to an 'enemy' now. "Doesn't matter, he can't help you and I'm here now." He looks away.

"Help me in what? Are we in danger?"

"It's Prince Theon now. Remember that!" He smiles. "And I've taken your Castle, Bran."

"Winterfell? No, you couldn't." The boy shakes his head in disbelieve.

"Leave us, Werlang." Theon says to the man with the dirk. "My men are dealing with yours as we speak. I promise you, Winterfell is mine." He sits at the edge of the bed.

"But, you're father's ward."

"And now you and your little brother are my wards. As soon as the fighting's done, my men will bring the rest of your people together in the Great Hall. You and I are going to speak to them. You'll tell them how you've yielded Winterfell to me and command them to serve and obey their new Lord as they did the old."

"I won't!" Bran steadily answers. "We'll fight you and throw you out. I never yielded; you can't make me say I did." Bran is leaning on his elbows to put himself straight in his bed.

"This is no game, Bran. The Castle is mine, but these people are still yours. If the Prince wants to keep them safe, you'd best do as I told you." Theon rises and goes to the door. "Someone will come dress you and carry you to the Great Hall. Think carefully on what you are going to say."

"Theon?" Bran calls him back. "Did you hate us the whole time?"

The Greyjoy prefers not to answer and leaves the room.

.

One floor down, in her bedroom, Ylliria is waken up by screams and shouting coming from the courtyard. She puts on her over-nightgown and looks through the window. She sees people erratically running all over the place, man all dressed in black chasing them. She cannot make out the Sigil that is embroidered on their chests, but they are not Winterfell's men for sure. Also, why would they chase their own people.

She rushes to the hallway but is stopped by two men standing in from of her, directly taking each one of her arms. "Get your hands off of me! Who are you? And what do you want?" She yells, trying to free from their grip. The men are bluntly dragging her downstairs in the Great Hall and push her against one of the benches.

A huge bald man approaches a nasty smile on his face. "What have we here?" He takes her chin in his dirty hand. She wipes it away, standing up straight a daring look over her face. "I think I did my job right and deserve a good reward. And this one will perfectly do!" He grabs her by the waist and lifts her up. She starts to give him pushes in his face as hard as she can. He swings her over his shoulder, making her start to scream while he takes her with him.

"Put her down!" Theon orders, standing in the door-frame, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Theon?" Ylliria says, stunned.

The bald man slowly turns around to face him, still carrying her on his shoulder.

"I SAID PUT HER DOWN. NOW!" He yells.

Dagmer comes near the man with his hand over his dagger's handle. "The Captain asked you to put her down, man."

"I want my reward, as promised! And I choose this one!"

"She's not one of the smallfolk. Can't you see the difference, you idiot!" The first mate flings.

"And by the way, she was mine already." Theon smirks.

The bald man unwillingly puts Ylliria back on her feet. "If one day my Captain gets tired of you, remember me. You're worth the wait!" He winks at her. She wants to swing her fist in his jaw but Dagmer stops her movement and brings her to Theon.

"What is the meaning of all this, Theon? Who are those men?" She angrily asks.

"All your questions will be answered in due time, My Lady. You'll go back to the bedrooms now and dress up the little Lords. We'll have a special council this morning." Theon gently strokes her cheek with a gloved hand.

.

The winds have risen in the mountains and a snowstorm does not ease the Brothers of the Night's Watch's duties. Suddenly Halfhand calls. "There!" Some of the others are gathering around him.

"Where?" Commander Mormont asks.

"Over that mountainside." He points.

"I can't see very well." Sam stands on the tip of his toes, trying to tower over the others.

"A fire." Jon says.

"Aye, there's a fire." Qhorin confirms, smiling at the young man. "Those who are sitting around it have better eyes that we do. As soon as they'll see us coming, that fire will become a signal. That will leave Mance Rayder's men plenty of time to throw a welcome party on us."

"How many Wildlings have joined him?" Mormont asks.

"For all we can tell, all of them! Mance has gathered them all like deer against the wolves. They are almost ready to make their move."

"Where?" Jon intervenes.

"Somewhere safe... Somewhere South…" Halfhand pauses. "We can't just attack them abreast nor waiting for them to come here with nothing but a pile of stones to protect us."

"I say we should march back to the Wall?" The Lord Commander proposes.

"Mance was one of us, once. And now he is one of them. He is going to teach them how we're doing things. He will hit in force and won't run away when we'll hit back. They are going to be more organized than before, more disciplined. More like us!" Qhorin turns around to face them. "So, we need to be more like them. Do things their way. Sneak in, kill Mance and scatter them to the winds before they can march on the Wall."

.


	47. Chapter 47

Chapter 47: Shadows Everywhere

Bran was expecting Hodor to come for him, but when the bedroom door opens again it is Ylliria he sees. "Bran, did they hurt you?"

"No. Theon just came to tell me Winterfell was his now."

"From what I heard, they climbed the walls with hooks and ropes, weapons in hand. The guards at the gate were killed and two others are wounded. I wanted to take care of them, but a huge bald guy pushed me back inside my room."

"It's the meaning of my worst nightmare coming true, isn't it?" Bran whispers.

"Aye. But, nothing is your fault, Sweetling. Neither of us could make out of the signs." She opens one of the trunks and takes some clothes from it. "You are the Stark in Winterfell and Robb's heir. I'll make you look princely!" She tries to smile.

"Theon wants me to yield the Castle."

"I don't think you have another choice to make for now. You must protect your smallfolk."

Another of the Ironman suddenly bursts in the room and grabs Bran in his arms without a word.

"I'll be down with you in a minute. I need to check on Rickon." Ylliria softly says to the young boy.

When Ylliria, holding Rickon by the hand enters the Great Hall, she sees Theon sitting in the high seat of the Starks, his hands resting on the wolves' heads carved at the ends of the wide chair. Winterfell people, gathered by the Ironmen, are bluntly pushed inside the hall. Belinda and Osha arrive from the Kitchens. Mikken was dragged, struggling and swearing like a trooper. When everyone is finally there, one of the Ironmen slams shut the tall doors.

"Bring the little Lord here, Loren." Theon orders his man, showing a seat next to him. He raises his hands to ask silence. "You all know me…" He starts.

"Aye, we know you for a sack of steaming dung!" Mikken shouts before the bald man beats him on his knees with his mace.

"Mikken, please be silent!" Ylliria pleads to him.

"You all listen to your little Lord now!" Theon says.

"I yielded Winterfell to Theon Greyjoy." Bran softly speaks.

"Louder, Bran. And call me Prince!"

"I have yield Winterfell to Prince Theon." The boy raises his voice. "All of you should do as he commands."

"Damned if I will!" Mikken spitting blood out of his mouth.

"My father, Lord Balon Greyjoy, wares the ancient crown of salt and rock again has declared himself King of the Iron Islands. He claims the North by right of conquest. You are now all his subjects." Theon continues.

"I serve the Starks, not some traitor squid of…" Mikken suddenly lets out a scream when the mace lands behind his ear.

"Smiths have strong arms but weak heads." Theon grins. "If you serve me loyally as you served Eddard Stark, you'll find me as generous as you could want."

Mikken slowly raises his head, a nasty look on his face. "If you think…"

"Mikken, by all the Gods I'm begging you…" Ylliria says.

"…That I'll bend the knee in front of your sorry cunt face…" The smith's eyes widens as the point of the spear enters his throat, a flood of blood coming out of the wound.

Ylliria wraps her arms around Rickon silently hoping she could same with Bran. She raises her gaze and looks dagger at Theon.

"We'll talk later, my sweet Lady." He smiles at her. "Who else has something to say?" He asks around.

"Hodor! Hodor! Hodor!" The giant shouts out, dancing from one foot to the other.

Theon, with a gesture of his head, orders two of his men to calm him down. They start to beat him up with the butts of their spears. The stable boy drops on the floor, putting his arms around his head.

"Theon, make them stop! Please! Hodor does no harm to anyone, you know him!" Ylliria pleads.

"It's Prince Theon!" He angrily yells, jumping out of the chair. He puts his doublet in place and slowly sits down again. "I will be as good Lord to you as your previous one ever was." He calmly continues. "Betray me and you'll wish you hadn't. And don't believe that the men you see here are the whole of my power. Torrhen's Square and Deepwood Motte will soon be ours as well and my uncle sails to seize Moat Cailin. If Robb Stark can defeat the Lannisters, he may reign as King of the Trident, but House Greyjoy holds the North now."

"m'Lord Greyjoy!" Osha suddenly steps forward. "I was brought here a captive. You were there the day I was taken."

"Osha! How dare you?" Ylliria burst out.

"I need fighters, not kitchen sluts." Theon mocks her.

"It was Robb Stark that put me in the kitchens. Put a spear in my hand and I'll show you what I'm capable of."

Theon burst into laughter. "All right, we shall see."

As no one else comes forward to pledge service, all were dismissed with a warning to do their work and make no trouble. Hodor is requested to bear Bran back to his chambers, his face ugly from the beating, his nose swollen and one eye closed.

"Hodor." He sobs as he lifts Bran in his arms.

Ylliria puts a gently hand on his shoulder. "I'll take care of your wounds, Hodor. Let's go upstairs now." She softly smiles at the giant.

"Hodor." He murmurs, trying to crack a smile too.

"Lady Bennett?" Theon calls. "You stay here. We need to talk."

"We'll talk when I have finish with Hodor and have put Rickon and Bran safely in their rooms." She boldly answers.

One of Theon's men grabs her by the arm. "When Captain says you stay… You stay!" He barks, closing his hand a little bit more, making her wince.

"Don't you dare touching her, you horrible…" Bran yells.

"Loren, where are your manners? She's a Lady." Theon grins. "Bran, you go in your room now. Ylliria and I have to discuss some private matters."

.

Qhorin Halfhand is still watching the little yellow dot in the mountainside ahead of their camp. "To kill Mance Rayder is the best chance we have to stop the Wildlings from marching on us and the Wall. And to do that, I'll need..."

"You'll need to get rid of those lookouts." Mormont finishes his sentence.

"Aye. But, it's not a job for four hundred men. I need to move fast and silent. A small group will do. Harker, Stonesnake, Borber!" Qhorin calls the men he decided to take with him to do the mission.

"Lord Commander, I'd like to join Lord Qhorin." Jon suddenly asks.

"They're calling me lots of names over the years, but that would be my first 'Lord Qhorin'." He smirks.

"You're a steward, Snow, not a ranger." Lord Commander says.

"That was before I killed a White. How many rangers can say that?" The young man pleads.

"He is the one?" Halfhand asks Mormont.

"Aye. You killed the White, but you also let an old man beat you bloody and took your sword."

Jon lowers his gaze on the ground.

"Craster? In the boy's defense, he is a though old goat." Qhorin comes.

"I could take Jon's duty while he is gone, My Lord. It would be no trouble." Sam proposes.

Mormont turns to Halfhand who nods his approval. "Well, I hope you'll make a better ranger than you were a steward... Go then!" He sends him away with a movement of his head.

Jon lightly bows and follows the three other men Qhorin had selected.

"We'll ride at noon." Halfhand tells him. "Better have that wolf of yours with us."

"I'll look for Ghost." Jon going for his belongings and starting to get rid of the unneeded things.

_._

Robb sits in his throne-chair, inviting Brienne to sit in front of his mother. "So, mother, what happened to Renly?"

"Renly was certain of his victory, against the Lannisters and even against his brother Stannis. He showed me the power of his host." Catelyn starts to tell.

"Where are they now? With Renly dead, which side are they gonna take?" Robb wonders.

"We didn't wait to know... Some of his Lords agreed with us and urge Renly to settle with his brother. At least to have a meeting and try to find an understanding for an alliance. But, the discussion went quickly sour, both as stubborn as it could be. Stannis requested to Renly to lay down his crown and pledge fealty to him. That of course, was out of the question for the younger one. So, it's empty handed we'd return to his camp. Then, I gave Renly your proposal and he was inclined to accept your offer. We were just discussing it when..." She lowers her gaze and pauses for a moment. Robb places a gentle hand on her arm. "There was a sudden gust of wind that flung open the entrance of the tent. I thought I glimpsed a movement on my left side, but when I turned my head I only saw the King's shadow shifting against the silken wall. When I looked at Renly again, he was in front of his mirror, readjusting his cloak. But, the shadow had a different pose... It was moving forward, holding a sword, when Renly's was still in his scabbard... I saw the shadow piercing Renly's back of his neck through and through. He just whispered 'Cold' before the blood came gushing out of his throat… But, there was no real sword in it, nothing, just a hole… And the shadow vanished... Renly stumbled, blood all over his armor and he died before hitting the floor…" She raises her gaze to look at her son, tears in her eyes, afraid that her son won't believe her. But, all she saw was a soft smile over his lips and sweetness in his green eyes. "Something dark and evil had happened there, Robb. Something I cannot begin to understand. The shadow of death came through that tent door and blew the life out of him. I cannot explain it better than that."

"In other circumstances and place, I would tell you not to listen to Old-Nan's stories." He softly laughs.

"Your Grace, I saw it too. Your mother tells the truth as it happened." Brienne intervenes.

"Oh, I believe you. And that is what is frightening me. If they start to change the rules of war by using magic and other tricks, we might as well surrender to the Lannisters at once."

"Maybe it would be wiser to keep this story out of the next council. You know how Northern Lords are reacting when the words 'magic' and 'sorcery' are pronounced." Lady Starks says.

"Fables and old Legends, I know." Robb frowns, not happy about this new chess piece on his board.

_._


	48. Chapter 48

Chapter 48: Prince Theon Settles Down.

"Why, Theon?" Ylliria softly asks now that they were alone in the Grand Hall.

"Why what?" He pours two cups of wine.

"Why are you betraying the very ones that have raised you, feed you, teach you and treat you like one of their own?"

"I don't have to answer to you, My Lady."

"I was just wondering where all that wrath of yours came from, Prince Theon." She answers, spitting the last two words like they were rotten food in her mouth. "I always knew you would turn on us, though."

"Us? So, you still think you're part of them too, huh?"

She looks puzzled at him.

"Sorry to be the one bringing you the sad news, Ylliria, but your betrothal to the King of the North seems to be a little bit compromised."

"How so? What did you do?"

"Me?" He points at himself. "Nothing, I swear... But all your sweet and nice promises of eternal love you made when you bed him... Well, unfortunately, they didn't survive the first obstacle Robb found on his way South." He smirks as he sees her trying to stay impassive. "Oh, I know perfectly well that you're not aware of those new arrangements. Robb told me himself he didn't nor wouldn't advise you about it."

"Don't try your dirty tricks on me, Theon. I know how you play cards and how much you suck at it. I can't imagining you intriguing around." She scoffs.

"I think this time I have the best hand, Ylliria. And you've better sit down before I show you my entire game. I don't want you to hurt yourself when fainting on the floor." As he sees she doesn't move. "I SAID SIT!" He barks, making her shiver. She slowly approaches and takes a chair two seats away from him. He presents her a cup of wine. "And you'll need this too in a minute." He stares at her to estimate her strengths.

"I'm listening." She maintains his gaze.

Theon chuckles. "We arrived in front of The Twins to cross the Green Fork. Their gates were closed and the drawbridge up. The old Frey had no intention to let us going through without taking some advantages out of it. The Lady Catelyn was send as envoy to hear his grievances." He slowly explains, trying to break her patience. He always loved when she goes wild. But this time, she seems to be stronger and more confident than before. "We were in council when the Lady Catelyn came back. So, we all witnessed the Lord Frey's long list of demands. Oh, you are going to love it, Ylliria." He takes a sip of his cup. "You should try the wine. I especially choose the jug myself from the cellar to celebrate this moment."

"Be quick about your news, Theon. I have business to attend." She says as calm as she could manage, forbidding herself to give him what he wants. She knows that if she rages against him, he will overcome her easily and only the Gods know what he would do to her. She can see it in his eyes.

"All right then." He comes after a long pause. "I'll spare you the details of all the things that old rag of a man requested. The most important point, what concerns you in particular, is that he asked Robb to marry one of his daughters. The Gods were good, because Frey added that he might choose his bride between all the available ones. I heard some of them are upon ugliness." Theon makes a grimace of distaste. "And well... Evaluating the odds between passing in force versus the time we would have lost doing it; it didn't take very long for Robb to accept the terms... All of them. Now that he is King of the North, he was so eager to show his Bannermen what a good leader he was. So, bye bye the Lady Bennett and let myself getting a Frey Girl instead!" He starts to laugh.

"Liar!" She slowly mouths.

"Why would I lie about it? What would be my benefit of doing this, huh? Tell me, Ylliria?"

"Because you hate me, I know that. You hated me since forever. I suppose, you just think by wounding me mentally you will break me easy and have you at your feet." She looks dagger at him. "But, let me tell you this, Theon of Greyjoy, I would rather that one of your men put a sword in my belly than giving you that kind of pleasure."

"Ylliria, Ylliria." Theon rises from his chair and bends behind her, putting his mouth close to her ear. "You have it all wrong. I don't hate you. And I certainly don't want you dead. All the contrary." He whispers. "As Prince of the Iron-Islands and new Lord of Winterfell, I need an heir very quickly. I don't want to marry one of our women at the islands. They all smell like fish and salt. I always preferred the scent of flowers and milk." He stands straight and leans against the table to look at her in the eyes. "I can't trust to marry one of the Northern Ladies. Even if one would do so, I would probably be poisoned in a week. But still, I need the noble blood of a woman, harmless noble blood. And beauty and personality were always important features to me. So, who do you think has all the characteristics I'm looking for, huh?" He gently strokes his fingers over her cheek. She slightly recoils, but then stops, letting him finish his gesture.

"I don't know, you tell me?" She softly says.

"Oh, come on Ylliria, you're not that dumb. It's YOU of course!" He joyfully comes. "I'm already plotting and planning with my folk to preparing the great ceremony. A double ceremony in fact, because you have your Gods and I have mine, the Drowned God. We should normally go to the sea for that, but I suppose some salted water will do. " He gently smiles at her when talking.

"I will never marry you, Theon. And you know that very well." She calmly says.

His face suddenly turns red, bending towards her. "Oh yes you will, Ylliria. And you will run for it, believe me. You'll marry me, unless you want to see Bran and Rickon's heads on spikes above the main gate." He murmurs with a nasty smile over his face.

.

Going through the Skirling Pass, a giant glacier between the Frostfangs and the Milkwater, to get to the Wildling's fire they spotted in the mountains and attack them from the rear, the little group of four Brothers chosen by Qhorin Halfhand continues their dangerous march.

"Ghost, stay with us!" Jon calls his Direwolf that he sees going further down the pass. "Where are you going?" He screams as he sees him continuing his way on the other side of the crest.

"There goes your pet." Qhorin smiles.

"He's not a pet."

"You're right he is not. You can't tame a wild thing, boy. You can't trust a wild thing."

"Ghost is different. I got him since he was a pup. The same blood runs in our vanes."

"So you think." Halfhand laughs. "Wild creatures have their own rules, their own reasons, boy. You'll never really know them. It's like the Wildlings we're looking for, they sleep during the day and hunt at night." He explains.

"I thought you said you couldn't know a wild thing." Jon teases him.

"I said that you can't. They find a nice cave where they hide in while the sun's up and do their killing when it's dark."

"We can do the same."

"No, we can't. This is their country. They know where to walk and most important were not to walk. I've lost good men fallen into a crevasse so deep you couldn't see clear through the bottom."

"My father always said I'm from the North."

Qhorin chuckles.

"He wasn't joking." Jon insists.

"Look around, boy. Does it feel like home to you? Do you really think you belong here? The day you'll start to think you know this place, it'll kill you. Do you understand me?"

Jon nods.

"No, you don't, boy! We are at war. We've always been at war. It's never going to end because we are not fighting an enemy, we are fighting, this, the Real North! And this bloody hell is not going anywhere. The Watch has given you a great gift. And you have only one thing to give in return, your life."

"I gladly give my life." Jon casually comes.

Qhorin suddenly stops and grabs him by the sleeve. "I don't want you to be glad about it! I want you to curse and fight till your heart is done beating. You know this, boy. Your death will be a gift for those South of the Wall. While, they'll never know what you've done for them. They won't know how you died, not even know your damn name. But, they will be alive because some nameless bastard, North of the Wall, gave his life for them. Now, do you understand me?" He stares in Jon's eyes.

"I do." He stutters.

"You're even duller that you look." Qhorin gently pats his cheek. "The things I just said, they are just words, boy. To give us a little warm in the night and the feeling we have a purpose." He burst into laughter. "Come on! We're gonna find these goat-fuckers before night fall and before they find us."

Jon turns around to look where his Direwolf is. Ghost is still higher in the pass, pacing back and forth on a ridge, watching at something only he can see.

_._

Theon is discussing with his men in the courtyard, when the main gate flies open. Rodrik Cassel, his arms attached in the back and a gust on his forehead, is marching between two Ironmen.

"We caught this one on its way back from Torrhen Square." The bald men, holding the Master-at-Arms, explains to Theon. "He killed two of us before we could grab his sword."

"Sir Rodrik, it grieves me that we meet again as enemies."

"It grieves me that you have as much honor as a back-alley whore! You were raised here, under this roof. These people are your people."

"There are not my people."

"So, what are you doing here? Why are you threatening them all?"

"I'm not threatening anyone! I'm helping my father to take the North. And I came her to marry."

"Marry? Marry who, the kitchen-wench?"

Theon quickly marches to Sir Rodrik and slaps him in the face with the back of his hand.

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	49. Chapter 49

**I will try to publish another chapter for you later today.**

**Thanks you all for your support.**

.

Chapter 49: One death and One Wildling

The screams of Rodrik Cassel and Theon are drawing Maester Luwin and Ylliria to the courtyard.

"King Robb thought of you as a brother!" The master-at-Arms says.

"My brothers are dead. They died fighting Stark's men. Men like you!"

"Aye, they die fighting a war your father started. Lord Stark raised you among his own sons."

"Among them, but not one of them. I was his hostage, taken from my home."

"If Ned was alive to see this..." Cassel sadly comes.

"He is not! He's dead! The Seven Kingdoms are at war. And Winterfell is mine."

"I should have put a sword in your belly instead of in your hands."

"You served this house faithfully, old man. But keep talking and..."

Rodrik spits in Theon's face. The bald Ironman immediately gives him a hard kick over his calf to make him fall on his knees.

"Take him to the cell and lock him up!" The Greyjoy orders.

"My Prince." Dagmer intervenes. "You cannot let this offense go unpunished."

"Well lock him in a cell until he rots..."

"No!" His First-mate cuts him again. "He has to pay the Iron-price. They never respect you while he lives."

Theon looks at Sir Rodrik, at his men, at Ylliria and Maester Luwin and back to Dagmer, finally nodding his consent.

"Maester Luwin, bring Bran and Rickon in the yard for them to see my hand of justice."

Just a minute later, Hodor puts down Bran to sit on a barrel while Rickon takes refuge in Ylliria's arms.

"Sir Rodrik Cassel, Master-at-Arms at Winterfell, I sentence you to death!" Theon yells.

"NO!" Bran shouts. "You said no harm would come to any of them if I yield Winterfell to you."

"The old man could not keep his mouth shut!"

"I want Shaggydog to be here with us. He would protect us and kill them." Rickon sobs, looking desperately to Ylliria.

"Hush, Sweetling. Be brave." She walks with him next to Bran, holding one child on each side of her.

Maester Luwin comes forward and takes Theon by his shoulder. "I taught you to never make hasty decisions."

"He disrespected me in front of my men." The young man answers to the Maester. "And that was his decision, not mine!" He starts to yell again.

"Rodrik is worth more to you alive than dead. The Starks will pay a good ransom for him. Please, Theon, think on what you do." Luwin gently talks.

The Greyjoy looks at his first-mate again. "You'll address me as Prince Theon or your head will be next to fall." He harshly comes, a nasty look over his face. The Ironmen grab Sir Rodrik and bring him in front of the block.

"No! No! Please Theon!" Bran hopelessly screams. "I'm begging you."

"The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword, coward." Cassel says in a defying tone before they push him on his knees again and put his head on the block. Theon removes his sword from its scabbard.

"Stop! Stop right now!" Bran continues to yell at him, his eyes full of tears.

"You don't give commands anymore, Little Lord." Theon places himself aside Rodrik, getting ready to make the beheading.

Maester Luwin comes near Bran. "There is nothing we can do without putting everyone at risk, my child. I'm sorry." He says, placing an arm around his shoulder.

"Your Grace!" Ylliria suddenly calls, handing Rickon to the Maester and approaching Theon. "I accept your marriage proposal. But, for the sake of it and by all the Gods, stop the blood shed. No more, Theon. Please, Rodrik is a good man." She speaks in the most sweet tone she could manage, tears forming in her eyes.

Theon rises his gaze to her, his eyes ready to surrender. He hesitates, holding his arm mid-way in the air.

"My Lady, I beg you not to put yourself in danger for me. I'm honored, for sure. You always had a golden hart. But you belong next to our King, not with that..."

"Sir Rodrik." She cuts him before he could say his curse out loud. "I know what I have to do and I'm willingly wedding Prince Theon." She raises her head to face him again. "My dear future husband, spare this man's life?" She tries to crack a smile at him.

Dagmer comes behind Theon again. "My Prince, do not lose your power, your command and your honor for a woman's silly request. It's not worthy." He whispers in his ear. "If you do that, you're losing your men and you're losing the Castle. Behead that man and you'll bed her anyway, willingly or not!" He grins.

"I'm sorry, My Lady. Rodrik is charged with a terrible offense that cannot stay unpunished. But, I'll do my best for this to be the last blood you'll see." Theon answers. "Return to the little Lords now, I think they're about to wet their breeches!" He lets out a false laugh to prove his men he still has the upper hand.

"I will cut you into pieces and throw you at..." She couldn't hold her rage.

He slaps her with the back of his hand. "You will shut your mouth, woman! And do as I command! Go back to the other side of the yard, now!" He yells. He takes a deep breath and puts his swords on Rodrik's neck. "Any last words, old man?"

"The Gods help you, Theon Greyjoy. They are now the only ones that will have mercy on you!" The Master-at-Arms says, looking in the young man's eyes. He slowly lowers his head on the block and waits.

Theon raises his sword high and drops it on Rodrik's neck. But, the blow was not strong enough to cut the head clean, so he has to give another one... And another one... He keeps going, blood spurting all over him. He finishes the lazy work by kicking the poor Sir's head off with his boot, his eyes full of fury.

On the other side of the courtyard, Bran screams his pain and despair, Ylliria trying to comfort him as best as she can, rocking him gently in her arms. "Hush, my Sweetling. The Gods will punish him for that. And if the Gods won't do it, I'll be the one sticking my dagger in his heart. I swear it to you." She whispers in his ear.

.

The next morning, at first light, Qhorin's five men are surrounding the Wildling's camp, hiding behind rocks. Jon has Longclaw, his sword, already in hand. As they could see, there are only four Wildlings and one still sleeping it seems. He waits for Qhorin signal to attack. With a slight movement of his hand, he orders Harker to kill the one at the fire with his bow, the brother being the best archer in their group. The arrow piercing the Wildling is the signal for the four others to launch their offensive. Halfhand gets rid of his target at once and already runs to the next one. Jon has jumped on the sleeping one, but that one was faster that he taught and he could run to his ax. Jon grabs him just in time, rudely turns him around and smashes him against a rock. He puts the tip of his sword on the Wildling's neck, ready to pierce him through, but he suddenly stops his movement, discovering long auburn hair coming out of the hood. He looks at the face, it's a woman. For a second, he even thought he was hallucinating, since she looks a lot like Ylliria.

"A girl." Jon comments.

"A Wildling." Qhorin corrects.

"We can question her." Jon says when the Halfhand stares at him waiting.

"You could. But, she won't answer. I've known a Wildling that bites off his tongue instead of talking."

"What's your name?" Jon asks her.

"Ygrid."

He has a shiver, even her voice sounds alike.

"See this ax she was after?" Qhorin takes it in his two-fingered hand. "If she had the chance, she would have buried it into your face."

"I gave you mine name."

"I'm Jon Snow." He gets her loose, but still keeping the tip of his sword pointing at her.

"You have to burn the ones you've killed." Ygrid requests.

"We'll need a big fire for that. Tell me, Ygrid. Why do you want us to build a big fire, huh? Are there some more friends of yours in the area?" Qhorin questions.

"Burn them or maybe you'll need those swords again." She warns them.

"Our boy here already killed one of those walking deads and he'll do it again if he has too. What is waiting for us beyond the Pass?"

"The Free Folk."

"How many?"

"Hundreds and thousands. More than you ever seen, Crow." She smirks.

"Why come to the mountains? What's in the Frostfangs your King could want?"

She lightly turns her head towards Jon and sees him staring at her. She half-smiles at him.

"Do you mean to march on the Wall?" Qhorin continues his questioning.

As she does not answer anymore, he approaches her, grabbing her by the hair and lifting her head. "Do you know who I am, girl?"

"Qhorin Halfhand."

"Tell me true, if your people capture me, will they take me prisoner?"

"They'll take your head of your shoulders, if they were feeling kind. If not, they'll kill you slow." She answers in a defying tone.

He heavily sighs and lets her loose. "We've no food for her or can't spare someone to watch her. And we can't let her go either; she'll bring Mance Rayder's army down on us. It needs to be done, boy." Qhorin takes his sword still full of blood out of his scabbard. "We'll need to do it. I'm sorry."

"No, I'll do it." Jon slowly says.

.


	50. Chapter 50

Chapter 50: Looking for freedom

Ylliria enters the rockery. "Maester Luwin." She calls.

"My Lady."

She looks around the room. "Where are all the ravens?"

"Dead, My Lady. That was Theon's first move when he took Winterfell."

"So, you could not send any word to Robb about what happened here?" She sounds desperate.

Luwin sadly shakes his head.

"We need to find a way to send someone at least to Torrhen's Square, they are the closest."

"You heard Theon, Torrhen's Square, Deepwood Motte and Moat Cailin are nearly theirs."

"What is your advice, Maester?"

"Stay put, for the moment and try to gain their trust. We need to have our hands free as most as possible. If there are troop movements and fights in the North, I'm sure word will arrive one way or another to King Robb."

"Theon…" She sighs. "He gave me till this evening at supper to confirm my acceptance to his wedding proposal. I don't have much other choice than accepting it or he will harm Bran and Rickon."

"Let me think about it, My Lady. I'll try to find a way to delay this marriage." He calmly says.

.

Jon is still threatening the Wildling woman they caught during the attack, his longsword pointing at her.

"Come on, brothers. We leave him to it." Halfhand orders his men. "We meet you at the top. Don't take too long. We're deep in their country now." He says to Jon.

The four brothers are making their way up again, leaving Jon and Ygrid alone. He is still staring at her.

"You never killed a woman before, huh?" She asks him.

"You remind me of someone." He whispers.

"Someone dear, I presume." She smiles. "Well, you don't need to do it. Mance would take you, I know he would. I know secret ways. The Crows would never capture us."

He sticks the tip of his sword behind her ear, making her hiss. "I am as much a crow as they are." He makes a slight gesture with his sword for her to turn around.

She slowly places her head against the rock. "Will you burn me after?"

"I can't." He takes his sword with two hands, steadying his position as he has seen his father doing when he was about to behead someone. "The others might see the smoke."

"Strike hard and through, Jon Snow, or I'll come back and haunt you." She warns him.

He puts the blade against her neck.

"That's cold." She whispers.

Jon's gaze goes at the far end of the Pass, looking around.

"Go on! Do it! Be quick about it!" She pleads, turning her head towards him.

He closes his eyes, the sound of her voice sending him a wave of memories and images.

"Come on, bastard! Do it!" She yells.

Jon raises his sword at the word and swings it right aside of her, hitting the rock. She looks up again, suddenly pushing him away and running through the rocks. Jon follows her, but she really is fast. He decides to make it for the other side of the slope, hoping to cut her way. Despite the shortcut, he is still behind, but at least he didn't lost sight of her. He cuts through another snowy slope, this one a little bit steeper than the first one. He lets himself sliding down on his back, grabbing her on his way down. He overcomes her by pressing his body over her back, takes his dagger and puts the blade on her throat.

"You can't do it, we both know it." She says breathless. "The sun is going down and your friends are nowhere close, Jon Snow."

"I'll find them."

"Call for them, go on! Call as loud as you can!" She proposes him with a grin.

Jon looks around, realizing he does not know where the way back is.

.

Belinda is in the kitchens, busy to prepare the supper for Theon and his men, cursing out loud. "I ain't gonna prepare them a Lording's table tonight, that's for sure… Illiterate savages! Maybe I'll pee in their broth, that will make a nice seasoning to this bunch of two-legged pigs!"

Ylliria, in the doorframe, starts to laugh out loud.

"Oh sorry, My Lady, I didn't hear you coming."

"Don't worry; I have rawer words in my head about them." She approaches, looking around to be sure they were alone. "Belinda, do they still let you go back to the Mill after your service?"

"Yes, My Lady. Why?"

"As per tomorrow, you are not coming back in service."

"But?"

"No buts, Belinda. I'm ordering you to stay at the Mill with your family. You will be safer there."

"What about you?" The maid worriedly comes.

"They won't hurt me, Theon has warned them. And I won't stay long either. At the first opportunity, I'm taking Bran and Rickon and we're leaving Winterfell."

"Oh, My Lady… I'm so scared."

Ylliria takes her friend in her arms. "Don't worry. All is going to be fine. And knowing you being safe will give me peace of mind to escape."

They hear some ruffle coming from the cellar and abruptly split their embrace.

"Emma? I'd like to take a bath before supper." Ylliria gently says as she sees her appearing at the door.

"I'll prepare it at once, My Lady." The young woman curtseys, laying down her load and grabbing two buckets in a corner.

"Thank you. Emma? And if any of the Ironmen is troubling you or put a hand on you, you let me know. All right?"

"I will, My Lady. But, for the moment they seem not to have notice me. I'm hiding as much as I can." She gently smiles. Ylliria nods and winks at Belinda before leaving the kitchens and going for her bedroom.

She gets rid of her gown and replaces it by a light silk long robe and a housecoat. She grabs a book and sits at her favorite spot waiting for Emma to prepare her bath.

On the other side of the wall, an eye is looking through a hole made behind the tapestry and leading to the grid above her bedroom's fireplace. From the adjacent room, Theon is spying on her. He sees the young maid filling up the tub with hot water in front of the hearth.

"Your bath is ready, My Lady."

"Thank you, Emma." Ylliria closes her book, locks her door behind the maid and approaches the tub. She unties her robe, her back to the fire. Theon scrutinizes her delicate shoulders, the nice curve of the small of her back, her firm buttocks and finally her long fine legs. She slowly bends, plunging a hand in the water to feel its temperature. She undoes her hair, shaking her head to untangle the last braids her maid did this morning. She slightly turn, letting Theon finally see her round breast, their nipples perking a little bit from the light cold air of the room.

"All this is no longer yours, King of the North!" He says for himself, squeezing his breeches where his cock slowly hardens. "I bet her skin is as soft as silk, her scent as sweet as a hundred flowers and her taste as juicy as a summer fruit. I will soon find out. Oh, yes, I will!" He gasps.

Ylliria finally enters the tub, taking the squared cloth that hangs on the lip. He struggles with his craving to run rejoining her and plunge with her in it. He would love to hold that cloth and rub her entire body clean. "She is so beautiful." He heavily sighs, unwillingly replaces the tapestry in front of the hole and goes back to his chambers to prepare for the rest of the evening.

.

Sir Bolton hurries in the King's tent. "Your Grace." He says. "My Lady" He bows when he sees Lady Catelyn sitting next to Robb. "A messenger just arrived from Torrhen's Square with news from Winterfell." He shows them an unrolled paper.

"This cannot be true." Robb softly comes after having read the message.

"It is confirmed, Your Grace. We had ravens from White Harbor, Barrowtown and the Dreadfort too." Sir Bolton somberly answers.

"Why? Why would Theon...?"

"Because the Greyjoys have treason in their salted blood."

"My brothers?"

"We have heard nothing of them."

Robb looks at his mother before adding. "And the Lady Bennett?"

"Nothing either. But, Rodrik Cassel is dead."

Catelyn is pacing around, trying to hold her anger, but she can't hold herself no more. "I told you to never trust a Greyjoy!" She suddenly bursts out.

"I must go North at once." The King flings, pushing his chair away.

"There is still a war to win here, Your Grace."

"How can I call myself a King if I can't hold my own Castle? How can ask men to follow me if I can't...?" Robb yells.

"You are a King!" Bolton swings. "And that means you don't have to do everything yourself." He continues, lowering his voice.

"Let me go and talk to Theon." His mother proposed.

"There will be no talking, he will die for this."

"Theon holds the Castle with a skeleton crew. Let me send word to my bastard at The Dreadfort. He can raise a few hundred men and retake Winterfell before the new moon. We have the Lannisters on the run. If you march all the way back North now, you lose everything that you've gained, Your Grace. My boy will be honored to bring you Theon's head."

"Tell your son my brothers and Lady Bennett's safety is paramount... And Theon? I want him brought to me alive. I want to look him in the eye and ask him why, and then I'll take his head myself."

.


	51. Chapter 51

Chapter 51: Preparing the Escape

After her bath, Ylliria grants herself a moment of leisure on her bed before dressing up for supper. She quickly false asleep. Suddenly, she feels something crawling up her leg, hitching up her nightgown in the process. A hand touching her pubis, gently caressing the hair and trying to part the lips. She grabs the uninvited wrist and slowly turns around on her back. "You don't like this, My Sweet Lady?" Theon whispers, going for the ribbons of her gown and starting to untie them one by one.

Ylliria tries to stop him, but it's like she has lost control over her body, unable to move a muscle. "What did you do to me?" She asks, willing to scream, but only soft sounds are coming out of her mouth. "Did you drug me?"

"Why would I drug you? You asks for me to come." He gently smiles, opening her nightdress and admiring her body for a moment.

"I did not. That's impossible." She pleads, mentally ordering her arms and legs to get out of the bed.

Theon kisses her neck, his tong slowly wondering down to her breast and starting to circle around one of her nipples. "I knew you would smell like flowers and taste like milk." He says, continuing his way down.

"No, please don't. Stop it, Theon, stop it!"

"Why? I can feel you like it. Don't lie to me, my love." He pulls himself up to face her and covering her body with his.

She can feel his hard cock against her thigh. Tears slowly running down the corners of her eyes when he slowly starts to part her legs, searching his way to her secret entrance.

A knock at her door makes Ylliria suddenly jump from her bed. She looks all over her bed, she's alone in it. She's still wears her nightgown. "Oh thank you Gods." She sighs, realizing it was all just a nightmare. "Who is this?" She softly asks through the door, tying up her housecoat.

"Maester Luwin, My Lady."

She hurries to open to let him in.

"Our situation is more precarious than I though." He seriously says. "I overheard some of Theon's men and it seems they are expecting a large contingent coming from Deepwood Motte, leaded by Theon's sister, Yara. Winterfell will soon be filled with Ironborn soldiers. We need to put Bran, Rickon and you out of danger."

"You want us to escape?"

"I turned this in my head all day, My Lady. And it's the only way. How much do you put your trust in Osha?"

"I've talked to her after her surprisingly turnaround at the other day's council. It was just a trick she made to have her freedom to move wherever she likes."

"Smart girl she is, we can't denied her that." The Maester smiles.

"And she always takes good care of the little Lords and she despises Theon, I'm sure we can count on her."

"That is good news. But, My Lady, what I'm about to ask you will come very hard on you." He puts a gentle hand on her arm.

"Ask me anything, Maester Luwin. I will follow your plan, no matter what."

He deeply sighs. "In order to increase your chances to rejoin our King Robb's Host, you will have to travel South alone. And the boys will go North with Osha and Hodor. That will oblige Theon to split his search in two groups. And with the amount of men he has at the moment, he cannot guard the Castle and lead the searches both ways, rising your chances to succeed."

She shivers at the news, her gaze falling on the floor.

"There is a convent of the Sisters of the Health God at the White Knife's river's fork." Luwin continues. "I know the Mother Superior for many years. She is the best field-nurse I ever met. She told me in one of her last messages that she was sending out small groups of Sisters and Novices to take care of the wounded from our King's Army. I will give you a letter to hand over to Mother Clarise where I'll explain your situation. She will take care of the rest and send you safely to our Northmen's encampment. Best that you travel under a false identity, only Mother Clarise will know the truth. For your safety and to avoid arousing suspicion from the others around you, you will have to play a common girl wanting to become a novice in the Order."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"What you do best, my child, healing people. You know enough about Medicine and Herbs, plants and potions to fit the role perfectly." He smiles. "For hundreds and hundreds of years, the Order of the Sisters of the Health God is well known for their dedicated and skilled field-nurses in the whole North." He pulls out of one of his pockets a tiny bottle. "This contains a strong sleeping powder. Try to put it in Theon's wine, at the end of the supper."

"We're leaving tonight already?" She worriedly comes.

"Aye, the sooner the better. We don't know when Theon's sister will arrive. Our best chance is tonight, Theon will probably drink a lot and with this." He points at the little bottle. "He will fall fast asleep half-an-hour after he ingests it. Make certain he will be in his bedroom before the drug becomes active."

Ylliria nods and accepts the bottle. "How are we going to leave the Castle unnoticed?"

"There is a secret passage in the crypt, at the end of the tunnel. It directly leads into the woods. I'll make sure there will be a horse waiting for you at the abandoned farm. You know where it is?"

"Yes, we often played there with Jon and Robb when we were children." She sadly comments. "Just one horse?"

"It's better for Osha and Hodor to travel with the boys by foot. More missing horses will be quickly noticed. And two different directions at two different speeds will add another layer of complications for Theon's research. Don't worry, Bran and Rickon's Direwolves will travel with them. So, prepare a light bundle with only the necessities. Take a gown from the household to wear and another to change."

"I will take them from Belinda, we have the same figure. And I will take her name too. She's an orphan, that will let me room for building up my fault story."

"Very well. We will all meet in the crypt after midnight." He goes for the door. "I'll better run back to my chambers, before anybody sees us together."

Ylliria suddenly finds new strength to get ready to confront Theon during supper.

.

Jon has tied up Ygrid's wrists and waist with a rope and holds the other end of it. They walk along the pass, trying to find Qhorin and his men. When they finally arrive at the edge of the slope, they discover the place empty.

"Did your Brothers desert you, Jon Snow?" Ygrid grins. "I could tell you which way to go if you were nicer to me." She wheedles.

"We'll stop here. Too dark to go any further today." Jon grumbles.

"Here?" She looks around with a sour face. Jon pulls at the rope to bring her closer to him. "But, there is no shelter here. I don't want to do this wide in the open."

"There is no shelter anywhere and we are not doing anything anyways."

"There is shelter, if you know where to look for it." She purrs, starting to play with the string of his cloak.

Jon grabs her hands away from him and checks the knots around her wrists. With the rest of the rope, he starts to tie her up like a ham from shoulders to ankles.

"The cold could kill us both. If we light a fire..."

"No fire."

"But a fire would..."

"No fire!" He raises his voice.

"Have it your way." She shrugs.

He lays her down on the ground.

"We could stay warmer if we were close to each other. I bet you'll freeze to death before I do." She turns her back to him and tries to find the most comfortable position possible.

Jon finally approaches her, putting his longsword out of her reach and lays down along her body.

"Who's the woman I remind you of?" She softly asks.

"None of your business."

"Can I at least know her name?"

"Ylliria."

"Do you love her?"

"None of your business."

"I though you crows could not have wives."

"There, you have the answer to your previous question."

"But, that does not explain why you're still thinking about her?"

"Will you stop asking bloody questions. We need to sleep!" He slightly starts to get annoyed of her talk.

"Do you think your brothers are looking for you?" She perseveres.

"Yes." He sighs.

"Do you think they'll find you?"

"Yes." He repeats, his eyes starting to close.

"You're brave, Jon Snow... You're stupid, but brave."

"We'll march again at first light. You'll better sleep now." He briskly says.

She lightly smiles and starts to rub her pelvis against his belly.

"Stop moving!" He orders her.

"I'm just trying to get comfortable."

"Stop it!"

She continues anyways.

"You're still moving!"

"Was I? I didn't notice that time, I swear." She lies.

They are finally falling asleep, Jon's arm around Ygrid's waist.

.


	52. Chapter 52

Chapter 52: The Drowned God's vow

Dagmer briskly slams Ylliria's bedroom door open.

"Don't they teach you to knock before entering a Lady's room in your doomed salted islands?" She furiously comes.

"Prince Theon is expecting you in the Great Hall." He declares, not minding her boldness.

"It's too early for supper. Tell him I'm not ready yet!" She turns her back on him.

He approaches and grabs her by the arm. "Don't make me hurt you, My Lady. I'll wait five minutes in the hall for you to finish your little doings. After that, if you're not next to me and following me gently, I'll be obliged to use force to drag you down. And you will not like it, My Lady."

She roughly gets off his grip and walks towards the door, the First-mate on her heels.

In the Great Hall, two other Ironborns and Theon are waiting for her near the exit door. "My Sweet Lady. You look absolutely radiant, I must admit." He kisses her hand. "Did you have a nice afternoon? I didn't see much of you around today."

"I was feeling a little tired, so I stayed in my bedroom."

"That bath must have work miracles on you. I see no trace of tiredness on your face anymore." He smirks.

She startles, wondering how he would know about that. "Are you spying on me, My Lord?" She tries to crack a smile.

He burst into laughter. "This Castle is full of mysteries, My Lady. Shall we?" He leads her outside where four horses are waiting for them. "A little ride will sharpened our appetite. It'll be a celebration tonight."

She hesitates, not seeing her horse. Theon mounts his own palfrey, handing out an arm to her. "You'll ride with me."

"But, that would not be very comfortable?" She tries to gently smile.

"Don't make me angry, Ylliria! I'm getting really tired of that little game of yours, obliging me to voice every single of my orders twice before you're actually following them." He rudely answers.

She resigns herself, catches his hand and mounts in front of him. He surrounds her with his arms and pulls at the reins commanding his animal to move, followed by Dagmer and the two other Ironmen.

"May I at least ask you where we are going?"

"Not far. And we will be on time for supper, don't you worry My Lady."

She has a last peek at the courtyard, hoping Maester Luwin would come and ask them to stop. But, the place stayed desperately empty of all people.

.

Jon slowly wakes up, a hand on Ygrid's breast and a leg over hers. He hastily puts the hand away, praying she wasn't aware of it and still asleep.

"Did you pull a knife on me in the night?" She softly comes.

He goes up in a start, turning his back on her and readjusting his clothes.

"What's the matter? It can't be the first time you rub your bone against a woman's ass?" She asks, trying not to laugh.

"Let's move." He simply says, helping her to stand on her feet and untying the part of the rope around her.

"Oh, so it was the first time. How old are you, boy?"

"I'm a man of the Night's Watch."

"You're a boy that never been with a girl. So, Ylliria never tried to..." She moves her head, trying to have him looking at her. "You two never even played a bit?"

"Shut up! I forbid you to even pronounce her name!" He threatens her, a finger under her nose.

"Why? Because, it hurts here." She points at his heart. "Or is it your balls that are getting lonely because your bone never gets in..." She wants to touch him under the belt.

He briskly turns her around, back towards him. "Don't call them that."

"What, balls? Or bone?" She grins.

"Neither... Both..." He clumsily says, grabbing his longsword from the ground. "Move!" He pulls at the rope. "We still have a long walk to do today. So, try to hold your strengths on the march instead of on the talking."

.

The four horses are entering the Gods' Wood and heading to the pond. Ylliria suddenly panics, when she sees a strange man standing in front of the Weirwood, wearing a mix of green, gray and blue robe with a rope around his waist. She unexpectedly pushes Theon that let go of the reins, she jumps off the mount and starts to run away.

"Dagmer, will you please." Theon sighs, exasperated, his First-mate already going after her.

With the multiple layers of skirts she wears, she cannot escape as quickly as she wanted and it only took a few yards for Dagmer to grab her by the waist and bring her back. "Don't touch me, you salted abomination!" She yells, punching and kicking at him. But, he calmly continues his way till he puts her down in front of Theon.

"Now, Ylliria, you listen to me very carefully, because this time, I swear, I'm only gonna say it once." He squeezes her cheeks between his fingers. "You'll gently follow me in front of that bloody tree and say the words. And I promise you, no harm will be done to anyone. Try to make as if you escape once more and you sign the death sentence of your sweet little Lords. And I guarantee you a slow and painful one for each one of them. Do you understand?" He jostles her away, crossing his arms on his chest, waiting for her answer.

She lightly nods.

"Good. Now, you'll take my arm and calmly march with me." He presents his forearm to her. She puts a trembling hand on it and they're slowly heading towards the odd man and the white old tree. "I requested a priest of the Drowned God to carry out the rituals in front of a Weirwood. So, our two belief are mixed in one and make it more... Let say, official." He smirks. "This will be a very short ceremony, since we do not have marriage vows to make and all that crap you do in our Ironborn believes."

"Kneel!" The priest orders them when they arrive in front of him. "Will you Lady Ylliria Bennett, give yourself willingly to Prince Theon Greyjoy, Ironmen born from the Sea and the Salt and reborn by the Drowned God? Share his bed, his mead and his meat and give him as much Ironborn sons as he pleases to have? And this till your heart stops beating?" He quickly recites.

She raises her gaze to the God's tree, silently saying her own vows, tears running down her face and finally softly nods.

"You have to say the words, Ylliria." Theon whispers.

"I don't know the words of the Iron-Islands." She murmurs.

"I just told you, there are none. Just say you accept, that's all." He abruptly answers.

"I will." She softly mouth.

"And you Prince Theon Greyjoy, Ironmen born from the Sea and the Salt and reborn by the Drowned God, will you promise to protect this women, the Lady Ylliria Bennett and all the children she will bare for you? To give them all safety and shelter, mead and meat? And this till your heart stops beating?"

"By the Drowned God, I do solemnly swear to love and to protect this woman and all the children she will bare, till my heart stop beating." He proudly alleges.

"Go now, hand in hand, Theon and Ylliria of house Greyjoy. And that those men gathered around you, witnesses of your promise, will keep it till they hearts stops beating." The priest raises his voice. "What is dead may never die." He finished, echoed by all the Ironmen present.

Theon wants to kiss his new bride, but Ylliria turns his back on him. He grabs her by the arm and forces her to accept his lips on hers. She closes her eyes, waiting for him to finish.

.

"I heard they go all swollen and bruised if you don't use them." Ygrid continues to talk while they getting down a soft slope, following the path. "Or maybe that's just what the lads say when they want me to get sorry for them. As if I feel sorry for them. There are no girl crows?"

"There are no women of the Night's Watch, no."

"So, you just do it with each other then?"

"No."

"Never?"

"Never! We swore an oath."

"Do you have sheep at the Wall?" She looks at him and as he does not answer. "With your hands?" She laughs. "No wonder you're all look so miserable!"

"Would you please shut up?" He pulls at the rope again.

"Would you please shut up!" She imitates him. "You think you're better than me, huh, crow? But, I'm a free woman!"

"You're a free woman?" He asks, perplex.

"I might be your prisoner, but I am a free woman, yes!"

"If you are my prisoner, you're not a free woman! That what's prisoner means." He flings.

"And you think you're free? You swore that stupid oath and now you will never touch the woman you love."

"It was my choice to say the words."

"Why? Why did you choose to say them?"

"I have my reasons."

"She rejected you, isn't it?"

"Will you stop talking about her! She's none of your concern!" Jon finally barks.

"Oh, I got it. You don't like girls?" Ygrid smirks.

"Of course I like girls."

"But you choose to never touch them!"

"That's the price you pay if you want to be a man of the Night's Watch."

"So, instead of making love to your woman and being happy with her, you prefer invade our lands."

"Invade your lands?" He briskly winds up the rope to face her. "Wildlings are raiding our lands all the time. Some of yours tried to kill my little brother! A crippled boy!" He snaps.

"They are not your lands! We're been here the whole time! You just came along and put up the big Wall and said it was yours!" She starts to yell too.

"My father was Eddard Stark. I have the blood of the First Men running through my veins. My ancestors lived here same as yours."

"So, why are you fighting us then?" She softly asks, starting to march again.

.


	53. Chapter 53

Chapter 53: A Long march will soon begin

Theon makes Ylliria sit down next to him at the long table in the Great Hall of Winterfell, the men around him are loudly cheering along. Bran, Rickon and Maester Luwin are looking around and at each other, puzzled by what this sudden joy could mean.

"Before we start this supper." Theon rises a cup of wine. "I would like to make a toast to my beautiful wife, the new Lady Greyjoy." He bows towards her. "I will make you a very happy and powerful Princess, my sweet at heart." He claims, while his men are shouting at him and drinking their cups empty in one shot.

Bran looks furiously to Theon, ready to retort. But, Ylliria gently presses his hand in hers, urging him to stay quiet. "That's were you both left earlier? To marry? I saw you from my window. Why?" He fulminates in a low voice.

"I didn't know where he was taking me."

"Did he forced you?"

"I had no choice, Sweetling. He told me he would harm you, Rickon and others if I did not bend to his wishes."

"You are promised to my brother. This marriage is not legal."

"What are you plotting there, you two?" Theon briskly interrupts them.

"Nothing, My dear husband. Bran was just a bit surprised of our sudden decision to marry and a little bit sad he was not part of the ceremony."

"We had witnesses enough, Little Lord." Theon answers, taking another cup of wine.

"Again this is a hasty decision you made, Theon. And you knew very well, the Lady Bennett was already betrothed to Robb." Maester Luwin gently says to him.

"That is what you think. I'm not the one that broken his promise, Maester. You should ask you dear King of the North what he did in front of the Twins. And you should thank me for still marrying her, as she not even a virgin anymore!" He wickedly answers, making Ylliria blush to a deep shade of red.

Maester Luwin sadly shakes his head. "I really feel sorry for you, Theon." He whispers.

"I don't give a bloody shit on what or how you feel, Luwin!" Theon spits. "FOOD! BRING US THE DAMNED FOOD ALREADY!" He barks. "All these emotions have starved me! In all meaning of that word." He takes Ylliria's hand to kiss it, looking at her with a nasty sneer on his face.

Osha enters to bring them the first course. Ylliria has a quick look at her and the Wildling imperceptibly nods.

The supper was far from what you could expect for a wedding feast, aside of the noisy Ironmen around the table, the rest of them were pretty silent. There was no music, no singing and no dance. Ylliria did her best to entertain the conversation with Theon and at the same time was mentally counting the number of wine cups he was drinking.

After Bran was send to his bedchamber and the sweets served and eaten, she took the advantage of Theon having a word in private with Dagmer, to discretely pouring the sleeping powder in her own cup before making the change with Theon's one. "That went well." She says to herself.

When he comes back, he bends down to talk in her ear. "I can't wait to be in our bridal bed, My Sweetheart." He stutters, quite drunk already.

"Let us raise this last cup to our bedding then." She takes hers and drinks a long sip, hoping he will join her.

He roughly laughs, tucking one hand in her cleavage and holding his beaker in the other. He rapidly finishes his drink, pulls her out of her chair and drags her up the stairs, under the cheering and dubious innuendos of the Ironmen.

When Ylliria opens Theon's bedroom door, he encircles his arm around her waist and pushes her to the bed. "Not so fast, My Prince. This is not the proper way to treat your Lady." She teases, trying to keep control of her emotions. "Let me undress you first. You will be more comfortable for this wonderful night to come."

"Oh, oh, oh." He laughs. "I knew that under that cold and innocent appearance of yours, there was a little slut hidden underneath." He staggers.

She unties his doublet and gets rid of his shirt, continuously looking at him to see how the drug works its way through him. He has more and more trouble to keep his eyes open. She delicately pushes him over the bed, gently stroking his bare chest to make him think she will join him. "Ylliria, I love you." He whispers. "I swear to you, I never really hated you… But, because you never looked at me, the way you were looking at..." He suddenly stops, falling into a deep sleep.

She heavily sighs and withdraws to the door, slightly opening it, waiting for Osha to appear. She was already hiding in a dark corner of the hallway and as soon as she sees the feeble light, she rushes inside.

The two women finish to completely undressing Theon, tying his wrist and ankles at each side of the bed. Ylliria grabs her scarf and gags him with it. "I wish I had a dagger to cut his little worm." The Wildling whispers.

"I wish we had the time to cut him into pieces and feed the dogs. Do you know what he just said to me? That he was in love with me!... Do you really treat the one you love like this?"

"You Southerners have ways that I do not comprehend sometimes. No one ever asked me if I wanted to lay down or not. They just push you on the ground and lift your gown and go on with it." She bitterly explains, verifying one last time the knots on the ropes.

"I'm really sorry you had to live like that, Osha."

The Wildling just shrugs. "I'm sure it won't be the last time either. At least this one'll never gets the chance to put his thing in me. I would have stuffed him with another kind of stake." She grins.

"Don't worry, he will suffer for all what he did. And I predict not later than tomorrow morning. Let his men do the dirty job!" The young Lady answers.

In the hallway, the two women split, Ylliria to her bedroom to change her clothes and taking her bundle and Osha rejoining Hodor in Bran's room.

.

Ygrid and Jon are still relentlessly marching through the mountains.

"Not living in stone Castles does not make savages out of us, you know." Ygrid starts again, sick of the silence. "We can't make steel as good as yours, that's true. But, we're free people. If someone tries to forbid a man and a woman to lay down and play, we put a spear up his ass. We're not going to serve some shit King that is only King because his father was." Ygrid chatters.

"No, of course not... You serve Mance Rayder, the King-beyond-the-Wall." Jon answers in a mocking tone.

"We choose Mance Rayder to lead us. He was a crow, same as you. But, he wanted to be free. And you could be free too. You don't need to live your whole life taking commands from an old man. You could wake up when you want to wake up. Play when you want to play... I could teach you the strings of fishing or how to hunt around here. Build yourself a cabin and find a nice woman to lie down in the night." She slowly approaches him. "You're a pretty lad. Girls will scratch their eyes out to get naked with you."

"Walk!" He orders, taking his distance from her.

"I can teach you how to play." She smiles.

"I know how to play, as you say."

"Oh no you can't... You know nothing, Jon Snow."

.

A little bit past midnight, they are all gathered in the Winterfell's crypt. Hodor carrying Bran on his shoulders, Maester Luwin leading the way with a torch and followed by Ylliria holding Rickon by the hand. Silently, they walk to the end of the hallway. The Maester kneels in front of the wall and pushes on a stone, opening a trap door. "You just have to follow the tunnel, always straight on. It'll bring you at the edge of the woods."

"Maester Luwin, may the Gods be with you." Ylliria jumps in his arms, holding him tight.

"Have a safe travel and send us some good Northern men to rescue us, my child. That's all I'm asking. Give my regards to Mother Clarise. And don't you worry about your wedding, it has no valor. It will be easily annulled since it was not consumed." He gently taps on her shoulder.

"But, there were witnesses." She says.

"All Ironmen. At a wedding there must be witnesses from both sides, the bride and the groom." He smiles at her. "Rickon, you listen to your brother. Bran, you keep your little brother safe." He quickly says, stroking their hair.

"Maester, come with us."

"I can't, My sweet little Lord. I will only be a burden for you. I am an old man now and I'm not so fast as I was before. I prefer staying here, waiting for you all to return and prepare a wide feast." He kisses Bran's forehead. "Osha, you know what to do, child."

"Yes, m'Lord." She smiles.

"Go now, no time to waste." He hurries them, tears starting to form in his eyes that he prefers to hide.

They all enter the dark tunnel. Bran gives a last look behind him and sees Maester Luwin already closing the secret passage.

After a fifteen minutes walk, they crawl out of the tunnel. The Direwolves, Summer and Shaggydog are jumping around them, sniffing each one of them.

.


	54. Chapter 54

Chapter 54: She got you good!

"Better put a long distance between us and the Greyjoy men. Let's hurry." Osha tells the little group entering the Gods' Woods. In the dark of night, the Wildling, Ylliria, Rickon and Hodor carrying Bran walk in a single file. Arriving at the rivulet crossing a line of trees, they continue their way, marching in the water to erase their scent from the path.

"It's cold." Rickon complains.

"I know, Sweetling. But, it's a precaution we have to take, so that the hounds won't find us." Ylliria taking him in his arms for a while.

Two hours later, they finally arrive at the abandoned farm. As promise by Maester Luwin, a horse is waiting, carrying saddle-bags with some food. Ylliria attaches her bundle with them.

"So, here we are. Time to separate." She sadly comes, looking at the two young boys. "I will ride as fast as I can and bring back Robb's strongest soldiers to kick Theon out of our Castle. Be brave and listen to Osha. All right?" She takes Rickon in her arms.

"I don't want you to leave. Everybody I like is leaving and never comes back." He sobs.

"Sweetling, I promise you that we all be together again. You have to be patient. I know it's not easy. But, you are a strong little man now and my sweet brave little soldier. And never forget, no matter what, no matter where, I will always love you." She kisses his forehead and goes to Bran, still on Hodor's shoulders. "I'm not worried for you, My Sweet Prince. You showed me several times lately that you are a born leader. I love you." She kisses one on his hands.

"Ylliria, may the old Gods give you a safe travel to find Robb. And I love you too." He wraps his arms around her neck.

"My Lady." Osha softly comes. "We have to continue our ways."

"I know." She gets loose from Bran's embrace. "Take care of them and yourself, my friend." She hugs her too, making Osha startled a bit, not used to that kind of affection. Ylliria finally turns to Hodor, smiling as he usually does. "Protect them fiercely, Hodor." She gently taps on his muscular arm.

"Hodor." He nods.

The young Lady mounts her horse, pulling at the reins to make him turn around. She gives a last look to the little group waving at her and taps her heels into the animal's flanks, setting him to a gallop. As they were not in sight anymore, she finally lets herself cry out.

.

Theon suddenly wakes up from the cold in the room. He tries to get up, but is pushed back to the bed. He discovers the ropes attached at his hands and feet. He starts to struggle, making as much noise as possible and yelling at top of his lungs. Finally, Dagmer enters his room and bursts into laughter at the sight of him naked as a new born. "She got you good! You can't deny her that!" He unties him.

Theon starts to yell as soon as the gag is out of his mouth. "If you don't stop laughing, I'll cut your lips out of your dirty mouth!" He rudely pushes Dagmer aside. "Where is that filthy bitch? I'll teach her how to respect her husband!" He runs in the hallway, still undressed and slams open Ylliria's bedroom door. When he finds it empty and goes on the second floor to Bran's chambers but finds it empty too. He lets out a scream of rage and goes back to his room, his First-mate leaning against the wall, near the window. "What are you still doing here? Go and find her!"

"She's gone." Dagmer grins.

"GONE?" Theon thunders, grabbing his breeches and doublet.

He rushes in the courtyard, yelling for his men to gather. "I want this Castle search from top to bottom! Every hole, every corner, under every stone! And bring them all to me at once!" He barks

Two hours later, his men all come back empty handed.

"You even let a cripple escape?" Theon thunders against the bald guy. "The boy can't walk and somehow he slipped passed you all?"

"The giant must have taken him." The bald man shrugs.

"The giant? Hodor?... Oh, that's all right then. You let a half-wit escape with a cripple. And Rickon too, the little one."

"All gone. With the Wildling woman and the Lady. The one you wanted to fuck last night." He grins.

"Married."

"Yeah, same endgame." The Ironborn snorts.

Theon violently punches the bald man to the ground, finishing him with boot-kicks in his face and in his stomach. He keeps going till his victim stops moving. "Right. Get the horses and the hounds!" He orders Dagmer.

He splits the search in two groups, one to the Gods' Woods and the other, with him at the lead, following King's Road. "The first one who find any of them, blows the horn twice." He yells before sending his horse in a gallop.

Arriving at the top of a small hill, giving a view to the King's Road for miles away North to South, Theon suddenly hears the horn blown twice in the woods. "The hounds have a sent! Finally!" He rides as fast as his horse permits it, going for the woods.

.

Ylliria goes through fields and meadows. She didn't stop the first night and the entire next day to be sure that Theon will not catch her up. Her hands and legs are aching so badly that she feels she could fall from her horse any minute. She forces herself to rest a whole part of the next morning in the middle of a corn field. She stays as much as possible away from roads and villages, so she has to guide herself with the sun to be sure she'll continue South-East to arrive at the White Knife Fork. She sleeps under a tree when it's not raining and in a shed or a hunter's watchtower when she finds one. From what she could estimate she would need another three days before reaching the convent.

Just before sundown of the fourth day, she catches sight of the roofs of the main building and sighs with relief. Arriving at the gate, she dismounts and crosses the arch holding her horse by the reins. A young boy rushes from the stables, without a word he takes them from her hand and drags the animal away.

"My excuses, where can I…" Ylliria asks to boy, but he continues his way.

"The poor lad is dumb and deaf." A woman's voice comes from her left side. "Welcome, how can I help you?" An old woman, wearing a black gown with a white apron and a black veil over her hair, gently asks her.

"I have a letter of introduction from my Maester for Mother Superior Clarise." She slowly approaches.

"Follow me. I'll bring you to her, my child." The Sister gives her a toothless smile.

"My name is Belinda." She lightly curtseys.

They follow a long hall to a wooden door. The old Sister softly knocks. "Come in!" Another woman voice comes.

"Mother Clarise? We have a young woman that requested to see you. She brings a letter of introduction."

"Bring her in, Sister Nesta."

The old Sister backs away to let Ylliria enter.

"Mother Superior." Ylliria curtseys again and hands her the unrolled parchment.

Mother Clarise unseals it. "Oh! Maester Luwin." She smiles when she sees the signature and starts to read. By the end of the message, she was frowning. "Ugly times we live in, my child." She lays down the paper and crosses her fingers together on her desk. "Please have a seat and tell me your story. Luwin's message didn't explain everything."

"My real name is Lady Ylliria Bennett of Garrymount. Winterfell has been under attacked by Lord Balon's son Theon Greyjoy from the Iron-Islands, while Lord Stark's heir... I mean, the King of the North is at war with his bannermen. It is paramount that I join him and advise him of what is happening to his castle. His two little brothers are, as we speak, on the run to the North. In order to preserve me, Maester Luwin has recommended me to take the identity of a common woman."

"He says in the letter that he schooled you in medicine and potions preparation."

"Yes, Mother. It seems I was skilled at it."

"Very unusual for a Lady."

Ylliria nods. "As you said, ugly times we live in."

"All right then. I will integrate you with the other novices. I had the intention to send another contingent to the King of the North's host. I will advance our departure. But, I cannot make it sooner that the day after tomorrow."

"Thank you, Mother. I was not expecting we could leave so soon." Ylliria smiles.

"That will also give you the time to settle in with the others and get use to our customs. What name did you choose?"

"Belinda, Mother."

"Novice Belinda." She writes it down in a book besides her. "Unfortunately, we don't have much ravens. But, see the urgency of your mission, I might spare one."

"The problem, Mother, is that I do not know where Robb's host is at the moment. Do you know?"

"We have a vague idea."

"Then, I'm practically sure any raven would find them where they are."

"Last time I heard something about it and its two weeks passed, they were going along the coast of Ironman's Bay to The Crag. And that's were I decided to send my contingent. Once near it, they could always ask. A host does not go unnoticed."

"If you are so short on ravens, Mother, I prefer not sending any, knowing the high chances the bird could fly lost or fallen in the wrong hands."

"Wise thoughts, my child. I understand your worries and concerns and the urge you have. If that may comfort you, the journey down the rivers won't take more than ten days and then maybe another day of two by wagon. Let's be optimistic and say that in two weeks, you'll be in front of the King." She smiles.

"I thank you so much, Mother. Those last days were terrifying enough."

"You're safe now, child… Sister Nesta!" She calls. The old woman directly enters. "Accompany our new novice to the dormitory and introduce her to the others."

"At once, Mother."

.


	55. Chapter 55

Chapter 55: Cruel times we live in.

The hounds are barking loud in the little yard of the Mill. Theon stands in the middle, looking all around.

"Children, come inside quick!" Ailwin sister's calls her two young boys.

"They have lost the scent." The kennel-master comes.

"Try again." Theon nervously orders.

"We've circle this farmhouse twice, Your Grace. There's no signs of them."

Theon grabs the man by the collar. "I'm sick and tired to be treated like a fool and a eunuch by my own people. The hounds will find the scent again or I'll beat them till they do. I'll whip every man here till I have my hands on those boys and that ugly bitch. And when I'll have them..." He let go of the men. "It's better to be cruel than weak." He goes for the stables. He walks from one box to the other, but it seems none of the horses are missing. He discovers a foal and his mother in the last one and remembers Ylliria talking about Robb's gift for her last name day. He enters it and grabs the small animal by its mane. He looks at it with a nasty smile on his face, takes his dagger out of its sheath and cuts the foal throat. "There, now you can 'whisper' to the Gods!" He briskly pushes its head away.

"Prince Theon!" One of his guards calls, holding Miller by the arm.

Theon follows them in the yard. "Where are they?" He briskly asks Ailwin's father, pushing him on the shoulder.

"Who, My Lord?"

"The Lady Bennett and the Stark boys. Where are they?"

"I don't know, My Lord. I'd see no one from the Castle."

Theon gives him a hard kick with his knee in the stomach. "Think harder!" He barks.

"I swear, My Lord. I don't know."

"My Lord!" Dagmer calls from the other side of the yard. "I think that we've found what we were looking for." He hands him a tuft of wolf's hair that was hooked on a wooden bar of a wagon.

Theon looks around him, rage flowing over his face. "Burn this bloody place down!" He grunts.

.

Ylliria follows Sister Nesta through the long hallway of the convent's main building. "You will like it here, Belinda. It's very peaceful and safe from war." She gently says.

"It seems I won't be staying long, I will be part of the next contingent of Sisters and novices that will join the King of the North's host."

"So soon? But, you are supposed to have your classes before."

"My Maester gave me a letter of introduction, telling Mother Clarise that I was already fit for duty."

Sister Nesta gives her a suspicious look, but asks no more questions.

They finally arrive in front of the heavy wooden double door. "This is the novice's dormitory. There are only three for the moment. So, you'll have space enough." The Sister opens the door. "Girls?" She calls, clapping in her hands. "We have a new recruit. Her name is Belinda. She just arrived from Castle Winterfell."

"Hello." Ylliria shyly says.

"Choose your bed. You have a small trunk for your belongings in front of it. Supper is in half an hour. There is a room next door with a tub, basins, soap and clear water. You certainly want to refresh before your meal." She explains.

"Thank you, Sister."

"Welcome, I'm Eva." A young blond girl comes forward. "And there you have Gisela and Karen." She points at the two other girls in the room. "Don't mind Karen, she's always grumpy." She giggles.

"I'm Belinda."

"Nice to meet you, Belinda. So, you come from Winterfell."

"Yes."

"I heard that the Kind of the North is the heir of Winterfell."

"He is."

"Do you know him?"

"He…" She clears her throat, thinking on the story she has to invent. "He is my Lord Eddard's son. I was just a maid in the Kitchens. I only saw him when I had to serve them food from time to time." She says, trying to sound like Belinda would have said it.

"A kitchen maid, huh? How come you're here? Don't they serve food at the castle anymore?" Karen suddenly speaks in a harsh tone, coming out of her corner.

"Lord Stark is dead, his son and mother are at war in the South, the two daughters still in King's Landing. There was not that much of a need for a whole household."

"So, they throw you out, huh?"

"The Maester let me go. I always dreamed to be a Sister of the Heath God." This last sentence made her think of Jon.

"Enough now Karen, let our new friend settle down. We will have time later to know each other." Eva tells her. "You better get ready for supper, Belinda." She gently smiles at Ylliria.

.

"And what did she say?" Robb questions Sir Alton Lannister that just came back from King's Landing with King Joffrey's answer to his peace proposal.

"The Queen Regent admires your spirit, Your Grace." The young Lannister cousin gently starts.

"And what then?"

"She..." He clears his throat, slightly embarrassed.

"If every man were held accountable for the actions of every distant relative, we'd all hang."

"She tore the paper in half, Your Grace."

"You've acted with honor, Sir Alton. I thank you for it." Robb lightly nods. "Lord Karstark sees that Sir Alton's pen is clean and give him a hot supper."

"Sir Alton's pen is occupied, Your Grace. The prisoners from the Yellow Fork." The Lord answers.

"Too many prisoners." Lord Bolton adds.

"Is there room somewhere for Sir Alton?" The King insists.

"Does he need to lie down?" Lord Karstark jokes.

"Have the men build a new pen. Put him with the King-slayer for now and have your boys watch over them." He orders him, not in the mood for laughing.

"Torrhen!" The Lord calls his son that directly grabs Sir Alton to take him away.

"That will be all, My Lords." Robb dismisses his men. "Lord Bolton, a word!" He calls.

"Your Grace?"

"Any news from your son about Winterfell?"

"No, Your Grace. It's a little too soon."

"Never soon enough to know what happened to my brothers and ease my mother's worries."

"Of course, Your Grace."

"I'd like to be alone now." Robb lets himself heavily fall on his chair, putting his head between his hands.

.

The convent dormitory is fast asleep. Despite the tiredness, Ylliria is staring at the ceiling, having a hard time to find her sleep. She worries for Bran and Rickon, blaming herself to have left them behind. If only it was safe to send ravens, she could have gone North with them. On the other hand, she has a guilty feeling of happiness, knowing she will see Robb again in a couple of weeks. She wonders what Lady Stark will say to her, failing in protecting her sons. She fears the next travel too; would Theon continue to send men to search for her? She flips to her side, holding the pillow tight, trying not to let her emotions taking control. "I'm safe here, Sister Nesta said so. I will be under the Health God's protection. And then Robb's, once we reach the host. He will know what to do. He will send men immediately to take back Winterfell, find his brothers and punish Theon." She says to herself. "Theon has to be punished for his actions as well as for his lies. I hope Robb will let me watch when they'll hang him." A sudden rage coming over her fears. "But, after everything that happened, will Robb still want to marry me? Of course, he will. Love is stronger than everything." She tries to convince herself and finally falls asleep with that last thought floating in her head.

Ylliria is admiring herself in the long mirror of her room. She's wearing a wedding dress, a nice ivory silk gown with different layers of petticoats underneath the skirt, making it nice and fluffy. A thin golden band to hold her hair and a fine necklace finishes her garment.

She marches to the Gods Woods all alone. Robb is already waiting for her in front of the Weirwood, gently smiling at her arrival. When she approaches, she suddenly sees blood pouring out of his chest. From the wound two hands are coming out of it, tearing apart Robb's ribcage. Slowly, Theon untangles out of the body, like it was a coat he wants to get rid of. Seeing the horror face Ylliria is doing, he lets out a sadistic laugh. He grabs her, wanting to kiss her. She struggles but he is stronger and he pushes her on the ground, trying to lift her skirts. One of his hands is ridding up along her leg, going for her privates. She wants to scream for help, but no sound comes out of her mouth. She can hear the fabric of her bodice been torn apart. She gropes her hands around, hoping to find something to grab from the floor, a stone or a wooden stick, anything. But, she only catches moss and dirt. Theon finally manages to open his breeches, ready to penetrate her.

"No, no, no, no…" She whispers, pushing with her hands and kicking with her feet.

"Belinda... Belinda, wake up." A soft voice calls, a hand shaking at her shoulder.

She slowly open her eyes to see Eva's friendly face towering over her.

"You were having a nightmare, dear."

"Oh, did I wake you up? I'm so sorry." She slowly gets on her elbows, her eyes still flickering.

"Who's Robb?"

"What?"

"You were calling for a certain Robb to help you."

"He is a friend of mine." Ylliria murmurs.

"Is he handsome?" Eva giggles.

"Hush, you'll wake up the other. Go back to bed; it's still the middle of the night." She gently tells her.

But, Ylliria could not find her sleep till dawn_. _

.


	56. Chapter 56

Chapter 56: Moving Forward

Back behind the walls of Winterfell, Theon has gathered the smallfolk into the courtyard again. "I told you what would happen." He starts, pacing along the lower walkway. "To every one of you. I told you what would happen if you serve me loyally. And what would happen in you did not serve me loyally."

Dagmer and another Ironman are dragging Maester Luwin by force in the center of the yard. "What have you done, Theon?" He worriedly asks.

"Some of you might wonder if I mean everything I've said." Theon continues his speech, not minding the Maester's request. "Here is the answer to your question." He points at the main gate, where a soldier is slowly pulling a rope, bringing up for everyone to see two completely carbonized corpses, hanging by their neck. By the size of the bodies, all the people around directly understand to whom they might belong to. The smallfolk of Winterfell just stand there awe-stricken and terrified while, for maybe the first time, they hear Maester Luwin letting out a huge barely human scream of despair.

.

Mother Superior Clarise has requested to all her convent to gather in the dining room. She patiently waits till all the women are settled down, sitting in her chair in the center of the table, perched on the small platform.

"My dear Sisters and novices, as you all know, I am about to send another contingent to reinforce our group already with the King of the North's host. After several battles, they have an urgent need for more field-nurses to take care of the numerous wounded and sick. Ugly times we are living in." Sister Clarise heavily sighs. "So, the following Sisters and novices I will call will prepare for departure tomorrow at dawn." She unrolls a small paper in her hands. "Sister Bertrada, Sister Petronilla, Novice Eva, Novice Gisela, Novice Belinda." She lists. "And I will lead the group as Senior Sister." She continues, making everybody gasp in surprise. "I know, I know. Sister Beatrix will take over the convent as Mother Superior. I govern this place for more than twenty years now. It's time for a change since I'm getting old. This will certainly be my last mission before returning safely to retire." She smiles. "You will team up in pairs, one Sister with one novice. Sister Bertrada with Novice Gisela, Sister Petronilla with Novice Eva and I will take care of our last new arrival, Novice Belinda. Is there any questions, requests maybe?" She looks at the assembly. "No? Good. Novices, you follow your designated Sisters. They will give you your daily tasks."

"You seemed to be in the good books of Mother Clarise, Belinda?" Eva comes, taking Ylliria by the arm.

"Certainly because I'm the latest one arrived. She wants to have an eye on me, I guess. And that is not always a good thing." She smiles.

Eva shrugs. "Aye, but we are traveling together. Isn't this wonderful?" She joyfully says, leading her through the hallway.

"We are going to a war zone, Eva. I don't think there is anything wonderful in this."

"But, we're finally going where we are needed. All those years of reading books, making potions and listening to hours of explanations from the Sisters. We're finally going to heal real people."

"Eva, did you already saw how a sword's wound looks like? Or seeing a raw amputation? Or remove an arrow out of a leg? You'll see lots of horrible things in the field. We will see people suffering and dying."

"Did you already see or do those things, Belinda?" The young woman retorts.

"I had my lots of horrors already, aye." Ylliria looks away.

"But, war didn't reach Winterfell, so how could you have?"

"It was not war. It was just life in the North."

"You are as somber as Karen." She pouts, leaving her to follow Sister Petronilla.

.

From down the hill, Horsemen arrive in front of Winterfell. "Open the gate!" The guard on the wall calls. Theon has gathered the household in the courtyard again. He seems to know who is coming. Yara, his sister, enters on her white horse, accompany with no more than twenty soldiers. The young Prince looks puzzled, not quite the five hundred he had requested and expected to hold his Castle with. "Where are the rest of them?" He yells at his sister.

"It's all there is." She circles around him.

Theon had prepared a huge feast in the Great Hall in honor of her sister and her men. When he enters it that evening, he feels depressed by it's emptiness.

"Hurray, here comes Prince of Winterfell!" She shouts, making the men eating around her laugh. She sits in Lord Stark's chair, her feet on the table, a roasted chicken leg in one hand and a horn of beer in the other.

"Envy isn't attractive, sister." Her brother retorts.

"What envy?" She chuckles.

"You should be proud of your brother's achievement. I took the great Castle of Winterfell with only twenty men."

"You're a great warrior, baby brother. And I saw the bodies above your gates. Which one gave you the tougher fight? The cripple or the six years old?" Yara's men having another round of laughs.

"I treated the Stark's boys with honor and they repaid me with treachery."

"You treat them with honor by butchering them?"

"Before I had to kill them, I treated them..." Theon pleads.

"You seized their home as it is your right." She cuts him. "We're Iron born, we take what we need."

"Exactly!"

"You made them prisoners in their home and they ran away. Is that treachery to you?" Yara severely stares at him. "I call it bravery."

"They made me a promise..."

"Your little boys' prisoners made you a promise and you got mad when they broke it?" She cuts him again. "And where is that Lady you praised so much about? Did you finally marry her?"

"Aye, I did. I'm a married man now." He brags.

"You must feel ecstatic! Why was she not next to you when I arrived? Why didn't I see her yet. I've the right to see my new sister, isn't it?"

"Well…"

"Well what? Did you lost her too? Did she also break her promise?" She openly mocks him.

"She wasn't with the boys. But, some of my men are still looking for her."

"If you didn't find her then, you're probably never will. At this time, she must be miles away from here. Are you the dumbest cunt alive?"

"Don't call me a..."

"A Cunt... A dumb cunt who killed the only two Starks in Winterfell and let flee his brand new bride. You know how valuable those boys were?"

"If I didn't kill them the Northerners would think me weak."

"You are weak... And you're stupid!"

"I'm warning you, Yara..." Theon threatens her.

"Go on then... Warn me."

A heavy silence suddenly falls around the table, making Theon feeling uncomfortable.

"You didn't bring enough men. How am I supposed to defend Winterfell with just this lot?"

"You're not! I've come to bring you home. Father wants a word."

"Is this a joke? Winterfell is the heart of the North."

"Aye, it is, and hundreds of miles from the sea. We're islanders, baby brother, did you forgotten that? Our power comes from our ships. And now that you've decorated your walls with the bodies of the Stark boys, every man in the North wants to see you hang. When Robb Stark will find out..."

"He won't find out. We killed all the ravens and we have all the horses."

"But you didn't kill all the means of communication. I'm practically sure your Lady wife is running to the King as we speak to tell him how a great husband you are!"

"We've search on King's Road for leagues away. How far could she have run without a horse?"

"You're sure all the horses are here? And what about the horses from the farms around, did you count them? Did you question the folks?" She raises her voice.

"I've…"

"Stupid, mindless and irresponsible!" Yara barks.

"I've taken Winterfell. And I will keep Winterfell!" He yells too.

"Leave us!" She suddenly orders her men. "Theon, you're my blood." She softly says. "We both loved our mother. We both endured our father. Come home with me, don't die here alone."

"I don't intent to die."

"You were a terrible baby, you know that? Bawling all the time, never sleeping. And one night, you just wouldn't shut up, screaming like a dying pig. I crawled above your crib and look down at you. I wanted to strangle you. And you looked up at me and you stopped screaming. You smiled at me." She softly brushes her hand over his cheek. "Don't die so far from the sea, Theon." She leaves the room, don't wanting her brother to see her sudden weakness.

.


	57. Chapter 57

Chapter 57: The Mountain and the River

"How far are we still from your crows?" Ygrid complains, looking at the emptiness all around them.

"They're close." Jon answers.

"Close like a day? A half-day? You don't know, do you? Do you even know where they are?"

"We are close." He calmly repeats.

"What do you think they're gonna say about you and me?" She asks with a inviting smile.

"Nothing happened between you and me!"

"I swear it, old Maester King Crow Sir, we were only close together for warmth. And then I felt it, right up against me back side, like a club. I can show you the bruises on my tailbone. And before I knew what was where, his... His... Well, it was all in the open, standing at attention in front of my eyes. And I didn't want to want it, but... Oh!... I did... And he spread my legs to ravage me. The shame of it now is that I can never marry a perfumed lord! What would my poor savage father say?" Ygrid enjoying herself telling her tale and marching backwards to be sure she didn't miss any funny expressions on Jon's face.

"Turn back around!"

"And when I thought we were done, he said 'turn back around'." She says in a husky voice, trying to imitate him. "I tell you what, Jon Snow. Since this is going to be your word against mine, and since you cannot talk about it without blushing, you may as well just..." She purrs.

"What? Right here in the muck?"

"Well, I'll keep you warm and all." She comes closer, but he backs off. "Are you that afraid of it?"

"That's enough!"

"Oh, I see... You swear another oath to that Lady friend."

"I said, enough!" He shrieks.

"You know, it's nice down here..." She slowly lifts her coat. "And wet... And warm... It won't bite you, I promise. I'm sure your Lady would fine you strong and skilled at the playing game when you'll be back to her..."

He grabs the handle of his long-sword.

"All right, all right." She steps back, her hands in front of her in defense. "Gods, you're dull!" She unexpectedly pulls as hard as she can on the rope, making Jon fall on the ground and runs away, climbing the slope.

The time he goes after her, she already vanishes behind a small crest. With his sword in hand, he starts to climb it too. Arriving on top, he sees the end of the rope laying on the ground. Squatting down, he crawls silently to it. He suddenly hears a whistle behind him and sees Ygrid emerging from behind a rock, with two other wild-men. She makes a movement of her head for Jon to look around. He is surrounded by armed Wildlings posted all along the crest.

"You should have taken me while you had the chance." She grins.

.

It is already two days that the river barge is slowly sliding down on the White Knife, heading to the mouth near White Harbour. Mother Clarise and Ylliria are leaning on the rail, looking at the banks unfolding in front of them. "Tell me, my child. How come a Lady from a Western Noble House is living with a Northern Lord's family?"

"When I was still a little child, Garrymount was attacked and my whole family was murdered. Lord Stark was a good friend of father and when his men arrived to the rescue, they found me, sole survivor, in the middle of the yard, sitting next to my dead mother. Lord Stark brought me with him to Winterfell and took care of me. And I became Lady Stark's first lady."

"Eddard Stark was a noble man, in every sense of that word. I met him once, on a battle field, during Robert Baratheon's war at the Trident. He was an imposing man, a soldier in all his splendor, but he was also fair and caring. It's a great lost for the North. And if I was a man, for sure I would follow his son to avenge him."

"I wish I was one too." Ylliria softly says.

"Did you know who butchered your family?"

"I was only two and a half when it happened. I don't recall much of it. And Lord Stark never told me. I suppose he didn't know who did it or wanted to spare me, thinking I suffered enough already." Ylliria shrugs, not wanting to share the tale of her recent nightmares.

"What made you come to study for healing?"

"Maester Luwin knew I loved to read and that I had some abilities for taking care of people. So, he gave me some books about healing and potions and I liked it." She takes the two silver rings from one of her pockets. "He gave me those two already."

"You were about to build up a Maester chain?" Mother Clarise lightly laughs.

"I told Maester Luwin the same thing, but he insisted. He said that there will be a constant reminder of what I was able to do and to give me strengths in trouble times." She smiles.

"May I ask you a more intimate question, my child?"

"Of course, Mother."

"It seems you are in age to take a husband and to bare children, not becoming a field-nurse."

"I am already married." Ylliria instantly blushes from rage.

"Is your husband at war?"

"No, he's the one who took Winterfell."

"The Iron-Islander?"

"Aye."

"I don't understand."

"He kind of forced me into it. Threatening to kill the King's little brothers that were under my care, if I did not comply."

"That is not a legal wedding in my books. Did he also forced you to..." Mother Clarise frowns.

"No, he hadn't the time to do that... I fled right after the feast." Ylliria suddenly lower her gaze, trying to hide her tears.

Mother Clarise puts her arm around her shoulders. "The King will annul this false union. You'll see."

"Better to tell you the whole truth. About the King." She sighs. "When Lord Stark left for King's Landing to be the Hand of King Robert and Lady Stark had rejoin him after someone tried to murder little Bran, Robb became the Lord in charge. Maester Luwin and myself did everything to help him in those functions. Little by little, we got closer to each other, sharing mutual feelings. He even asked me to marry him." She softly speaks. "We were waiting his father's approval when the message of his imprisonment in the Red Keep arrived. Soon after, Robb called the Bannermen and went to war and became the King of the North."

"So, you are telling me that I'm now talking with the future Queen of the North? You had hide that little detail from me." Mother Clarise teases her, trying to make her smile.

"I don't think that this will ever be. There are so many things that have changed in such a short period of time. And we don't know how long this war will last."

"Child, do you love him?"

"I… I think so, yes."

"Does he love you?"

"I think so too."

"Then it will be… The Gods always provide what is written in our hearts."

"My pardons, Mother." Gisela intervenes, arriving on the deck. "Sister Bertrada sends me to advise you that supper is served."

"Thank you, my child. We're coming down." She makes a gentle gesture with her hand to send the novice away. "We'll discuss more later, My Lady. Lets have our stomachs filled first. I hope it's not another menu with catfish!" She smiles, still holding Ylliria by the shoulder. "I'm starting to get sick of catfish! Don't you?" She leads her to their cabin.

.

The group of ten Wildlings is taking Jon to their main encampment.

"I brought you a present, Lord of Bones." Ygrid says, pushing forward the tied up young man.

"I already got one crow. I don't need two." The man answers, having decorated his coat by sewing bones all over it and wearing a scull over his face.

"Mance would certainly question this one. He knows where all the crows are and what they are planning." Ygrid insists.

Jon lifts his head and see Qhorin Halfhand on his knees a little bit further away, surrounded by three Wildlings holding spears.

"The Halfhand knows more. This one looks like a stupid little boy to me. Got him!" He orders to some others.

"That boy could have killed me half a dozen times, but he..."

"And now he wishes he did." The Lord of Bones cuts her. "Got him!" He repeats to his men.

"Wait! He's a bastard of Winterfell, Ned Stark's son. Pretty sure Mance will want him."

"What would Mance want with a dead man's bastard?"

"I don't know. I think he would want to decide for himself."

The Wildling approaches Ygrid. "He runs and I chop his balls off." He warns her.

"He does and I do it myself." She answers in a daring tone.

The Lord of bones sneers and goes his way back to his tent.

"We're even now, Jon Snow." She unties him and two other men are taking him aside Qhorin.

"I couldn't do it. I had the sword on her neck, but I just..." Jon apologizes.

"I know." Halfhand answers.

"And the other brothers?"

"We did come back to look after you. We found your tracks fast enough. But, they found us before we found you."

"They died because of me."

"Well see now that it wasn't for nothing."

"Come on... On your feet." One of the speared Wildlings grabs Qhorin by the arm and drags him away.

.


	58. Chapter 58

Chapter 58: The Torment of Worries and Remorse.

Lord Bolton is again the last person in the King's tent, for another one of their private meetings.

"Still no word about Winterfell?" Robb darkly asks his Lord.

"We've send a dozen ravens and none have returned, Your Grace. My bastard is only a few days away. Once he captures the Castle..."

"Theon has my brothers and Y..." He pauses, Ylliria's name nearly escaping his mouth. Bolton not knowing her, he would ask too many questions if he had mentioned her. "If we storm him the Castle, he could..." Robb continues.

"He wouldn't dare hurt the boys. There's no hope for him to escape the North with his head still on his shoulder"

"Send word to your son." The King heavily breathes from anger and inquietude. "Any Ironborn who surrenders will be allowed to return safely to their home."

"A touch of mercy is a virtue, Your Grace. Too much..."

"Any Ironborn with the exception of Theon Greyjoy. He betrayed our cause. He betrayed me. And we will hunt him down no matter where he runs."

"I expect his countrymen will turn on him the minute they'll hear the offer." Lord Bolton stands up. "I'll go at once sending the message to my son, Your Grace." He respectfully bows before leaving the tent.

Robb is now alone with his thoughts, praying that nothing happened to his brother or to Ylliria. His imagination runs at top speed on all what Theon could inflict them. He'd seen enough horrors since this war started and that certainly does not help him to calm down. Not knowing is becoming his daily torture. He wishes he could fly, rejoining them, taking them in his arms and telling them they are all safe now.

.

After another two days of travel, the barge comes alongside the river bank near the King's Road. The Sisters of the Health God will have to continue their journey by wagon, following the Road down to Lord Harroway's Town. The sailors are helping them to pile up their supplies on the riverside. Sister Petronilla and Eva are harnessing the two horses to the wagon, while Sister Bertrada, Gisela and Ylliria are loading it with their boxes and bundles. The young Lady has some fears about this part of the trip; never know Theon would have send men for her that far South. So, during the days on board the barge, she made, for the dagger that Jon gave her, a small belt to put it along her thigh under her green gown; better having it close to hand.

Soon on King's Road, the little group is encountering more and more people marching in the opposite direction, mostly families, carrying their few belongings on their backs. "Where are they going, Mother?" Eva asks.

"They're fleeing the war, my child, hoping for a safer life somewhere in another Castle or working for another Lord." Mother Clarise replies, cracking the reins on the horse's back to raise the speed a bit.

Further down the road, Ylliria hears whimpering noises coming from down the ditch. "Hold!" She calls while jumping off the wagon and going down the little slope.

"Belinda, where are you going?" Mother Clarise asks, putting the coupling to a sudden halt.

Ylliria reappears a few seconds later, a two year old little girl in her arms. "There is a woman too. She's wounded. Half her right arm has been ripped off, it seems." She hands the little girl over to Gisela, while Sister Petronilla grabs her healing wooden box and follows her down the slope again.

"She has lost a lot of blood." The Sister says. "You can see it at the paleness of her skin. I don't think we can save her. I'm going to give her some milk of the poppy to ease the pain."

"We can transport her and leave her to be cared of in the next village we'll pass. We can't abandon her here to die."

"Aye. You take her under the arms, I'm taking the legs." Petronilla says.

They carry the woman up the slope and lay her down in the wagon. "Please." She whispers.

"We're here to help you." Ylliria softly answers, pouring some water over her face to refresh her.

"Please." She repeats.

"Don't worry. You're safe now. And your little one too."

Sister Petronilla gently lifts her head and makes her drink the sleeping potion. She tighten a tourniquet around the woman's arm, takes a saw out of her healing box and makes a clean cut above the torn down flesh. "Give me some clean cloth from that box over there." She orders Ylliria that was closely looking at her doings. The Sister applies a sort of greenish plaster over the cut and covers it with one of the cloths. "That's all we can do for that poor woman. If you believe in the Gods, it's time to pray." She comes as Mother Clarise make the wagon move forward again.

From the corner of her eye, Ylliria sees Eva tetanized, a hand over her mouth and tears running down her face. She sits next to her, putting her arm around her shoulder. "Better for you to get use to that kind of things, my sweet sister. This is just the beginning."

.

"Mance is gonna march on the Wall. When he does, one brother inside his army will worth a thousand fighting against him." Qhorin explains to Jon while they are moving along the mountains to Rayder's encampment.

"They'll never trust me." Jon answers.

"They might, if you do what needs to be done, son."

"What?"

"How does it feel knowing all those brave men have died so you could roll in the snow with that savage girl!" Qhorin unexpectedly starts to yell at the young man.

"What?... I didn't." Jon pleads, still a little puzzled about what Halfhand has in mind.

"I should have known better, trusting a traitor's bastard" Qhorin shoving Jon down the snowy slope where he falls hard on the rocks below.

The Lord of Bones grabs the Brother by the collar. "He is not yours to kill, crow!" He warns him, pushing him forward to continue to march.

Ygrid stays at the edge, looking down at Jon and grinding.

.

When the Sisters' horse-drawn carriage arrives close to the next village, they are welcomed by dark columns of smoke.

Slowly riding through the main road, the women are discovering burned houses and stables, carcasses of butchered animals scattering the ground, knocked over chariots and most of all dead bodies.

"By all the Gods, I never thought we would see this so soon." Mother Clarise softly says.

A little further down, they pass a line of trees where men are hanging by their necks, for some days already at the look of their mangled bodies and the pack of crows feeding on them.

"Shouldn't we stop to bury them, Mother?" Eva asks, seeming to have found some strength to confront her new life.

"We d'better not stop. The men who did this might still be around." Mother Clarise replies.

"It can't imagine our army responsible for this." Ylliria softly says.

"Maybe, maybe not. During trouble times, groups of highwaymen, fearing neither the Gods or men, are forming to plunder and wantonly mug for their own profit. One man's meat is another man's poison." She sighs.

"What are we gonna do with the little girl?" Gisela asks, the child asleep on her lap.

"We might find some untouched villages further down. We still have two hours before sunset, let us put some distance between us and this hell. We'll camp at the edge of the woods."

"Or we can continue down the road, taking each the reins for a hour or two while the others sleep." Ylliria proposes.

Mother Clarise looks at her sisters for advice. They both nod in agreement. "All right then. Can some of you be so kind to prepare me a slice of bread with cheese? I'll take the two hours of sunlight left. My eyes are not what they used to be. I would rather not leading those horses in the dark." She requests, making the chariot move again.

The next morning, they are already covered three quarters of their way to Lord Harroway's Town.

"We will have to make a stop. The horses need to be fed and watered." Sister Bertrada says.

"And also to dig a grave." Gisela adds. "The woman is dead."

.

Theon is staring at the carbonized corpses still hanging in front of the gate. "We should bury them now." He tells Dagmer when he passes by him.

"I would let them there a few more days, to send a message." The first-mate answers.

"If they don't have the bloody message now, a few more days won't help."

"As you say, but it won't hurt to let them rot a while longer either."

"Did the men come back from King's Road?" Theon asks without conviction.

"Aye. And along a river and a while West. She must have grown wings. Maybe, she's a witch?" Dagmer titters.

Theon does not found that very funny. He is playing with a little purse in his hand.

"What's this?" The first-mate frowns.

"Gold for the farmer, for his trouble." The Greyjoy hands it to him.

"His troubles are gone. He's eating the crops now and his wife too." The Ironmen shrugs. "You wanted to keep the man silent, that's what you did."

In the meantime, Maester Luwin crosses the courtyard and catches sight of Osha holding some round loafs of bread in her arms, hastily entering in the crypt. She glances at him for a second before disappearing. He is tempted to follow her, but sees Theon and Dagmer not far of. Intrigued, he turns around and goes near the burned corpses to have a closer look at them.

.


	59. Chapter 59

Chapter 59: Days like Years and Hours like Months

The sun is slowly falling into the West when Mother Clarise, the Sisters and the Novices are finally arriving in sight of Lord Harroway's Town. Ylliria finds some relieve to see the end of their travel along King's Road.

"We'll stay the nigh in this Inn I know, to have a decent night sleep in a real bed. My back is just a pack of mush." Mother Clarise gets down the wagon and stretches her tired body. "Sister Petronilla, you will fetch some food for the rest of our journey. We never know we have to make an unexpected stop along the river."

"At once, Mother." She smiles. "Eva, you are coming with me, my child." She orders her novice.

Sister Bertrada, Gisela and Ylliria are unloading the carriage while a stable boy removes the harness from the horses and leads them in the adjoining building to take care of them.

There are just a few travelers in the Inn's main room, so space enough for the group of women to sit all together around a table. "I'm afraid we can only offer you a thick pea soup and some black bread with cheese. Supplies are not coming as regularly as they use to." The innkeeper complains. "Where are you heading too?" The large woman blandly asks.

"South." Mother Clarise simply answers.

"If I were you, I would not go too much South. King's Landing is under siege by Stannis Baratheon's ships, maybe even under attack as we speak. We had those three guys in here yesterday that ran away from it and told us so."

"We are not going that far. Thank you for the information, though." She smiles. "And pea soup will be perfect."

Gisela is helping the little girl with her bread, cutting small pieces from her slice and dipping it in the hot liquid.

Mother Clarise looks at them, thoughtful. She bends towards Sister Petronilla. "While you were buying food, didn't you by chance get near an orphanage or find a place where the little girl might be safe?" She whispers.

"No, nothing in that genre. I'll discuss with the innkeeper later, she might know if a family would be ready to take her."

"Better find a solution, we can't reasonably bring her with us in the middle of a host encampment."

Sister Bertrada, Gisela and Eva, exhausted by the journey, decide to go to their chambers just after supper and while Sister Petronilla discusses with the innkeeper, Mother Clarise shuffles next to Ylliria. "How are you keeping up, my child?"

"I'm fine, Mother. Thank you."

"I was not referring to your physical condition." She lets out a small laugh.

"Oh!" Ylliria laughs too. "Well, the more we were getting down South, the better I felt. I don't think Theon's men will be still looking after me now. So, that's relief on its own. And we are already that far, won't take long to catch up with Robb's host." She lowers her gaze on her lap. "Honestly said, I'm feeling kind of nervous to see him, how he will be. He must have changed a lot, I guess. Wars change men."

"And women."

"May I ask you a question, Mother?"

"Of course."

"How did you become a Sister of the Heath God?"

She sighs. "Believing or not, I was born in a Castle too. I was the only child of Lord and Lady Alflatt from Forgottenforge. But, I trust you not to tell anyone."

"I promise, Mother. I would be one of the Seven Devils to denounce something that I'm doing myself! But, I never heard of the House Alflatt, neither a Forgottenforge Castle."

"That is because it's probably totally abandoned and in ruins by now. Forgottenforge is a small village between The Dreadfort and Widow's Watch, along the West coast. We were not that rich, nor high ranked in the Northern Seigniory. A small Castle to tell the truth. I grew up around stable boys and kitchen wenches, often mistaken for a boy." She smiles.

"That reminds me of Arya a bit."

"Arya?"

"Lord Stark's youngest daughter, better with a bow in her hands than with a needle."

"Our lower condition didn't give me much choice for a good wedding. My father wanted me to marry an old Lord from House Flint. He was sixty three and I only fourteen. I couldn't nor wouldn't let that happen. I begged my father to reconsider, but he didn't give in. He had no other choice, I guess. So, one night I decide to flee the Castle to never come back. I worked in some Inns for a meal or in a farm for a night sleep under a roof. And during one of my roving days, Sister Alissa crossed my path. She told me about the Order and it was like suddenly I found my purpose in life. And here I am now."

"No offense, Mother, I never heard about the Order before Maester Luwin mentioned it. But, it is a wonderful congregation. And I would have considered it for myself in other circumstances."

"Hah! Enough talking for today." Mother Clarise unexpectedly stands up. "I'm broke and I would not fight long for a long night of dreamless sleep."

"I think I will do the same in a minute." Ylliria gently smiles.

.

Jon is laying behind a rock to protect him from the icy wind that has risen a few hours before. He rolls himself into his cloak and tries to find sleep. Not long after he closed his eyes, he suddenly sees himself standing along a riverbank watching a barge slowly sliding downstream. The sun is high in the sky and warm on his face. When the barge passes in front of him, he sees Ylliria leaning over the rail, talking with an older woman. Strangely, she is wearing a light armor, a short-sword hanging on one side of her belt and the dagger he gave her on the other. He waves at her and calls her name, but she seems not to hear. He runs along the bank, following the boat, yelling, jumping and swinging his arms, but she disappears from the rail. He lets himself fall in the grass, panting. He feels the sun going away from his face. When he opens his eyes, a shadow is towering over him. He briskly goes on his feet, a hand going for his sword, but there is none on his side.

"It's me." The shadow softly says.

He lifts his head to see Ylliria standing in front of him, wearing a green gown and a black apron. She shows him the dagger full of blood and let it drop on his feet, tear running down her face. He grabs her, holding her tight, telling her how much he missed her, how much he needed her, how sorry he is not having come back when Robb went to war. She puts a finger across his mouth, smiling before she start to kiss him fervently. He immediately responds to her embrace. They lay down on the foot of a Weirwood, the surroundings having changed again. Jon's hand goes for her breast, wanting to cup it and caress it and squeeze it. He thought about this for so long and she gave it to him. He feels happy like he never felt in a long time, a wave of bliss running down his body. He suddenly feels a kick on his thigh. He turns around, but sees no one. Another kick and he finally opens his eyes, the whiteness of the low sky and the snow around him oblige him to screw up his eyes.

"Nice dreaming, crow?" Ygrid grins.

"I was not dreaming." Jon answers in a low voice.

"Aye, I can see that!" She points at the bulge swelling his breeches.

He rushes to stand up and briskly closes his cloak around him. Ygrid bursts into laughter and pulls at the rope, attached to his wrist and waist to make him move forward.

"Was it about me?" Ygrid asks him after a moment.

Jon stays silent.

"Oh! It was about the Lady!" She purrs. "I really don't understand you, Jon Snow. Everything down there seems to operate perfectly well." She points at his lower parts. "You seemed to be able to love or at last to feel things. And you still wanted to be a crow?" She turns around to look at him. "What is wrong with you?" She stares.

"Nothing is wrong with me. You just talking and talking about the same thing over and over again. Is there anything else you Wildlings like? Is this the only thing that matters to you, laying down and fuck? Is that the kind of freedom you're so fond of?" He angrily comes, having enough of her chattering.

"Is there a problem here?" The Lord of Bones asks Ygrid when he sees them stopping in the middle of the way.

"No, my Lord of Bones, everything is fine." She tamely answers, pulling at the rope again.

.

After a good night sleep in a comfortable bed of the Inn, the Sisters and Novices are breaking their fast, before taking the next barge going down the Red Fork and the Tumblestone River. That well deserved rest has erased all the signs of tiredness of their faces and a joyful hubbub runs along the table of women. The Innkeeper serves them hot bread from the oven, apples from her own garden, some yellow cheese and light ale to wash it all down.

The large woman comes near their table accompany with another woman. "Mother, Sisters?" She calls. "This is Finella from a farm east of here. She lost two of her young daughter of fevers and is ready to take in your little one."

"The Gods are merciful." Mother Clarise says. "Thank you, my child."

"I was so sad when I lost my little ones. My husband died too last month and I feel to old and cheerless to take another man in my bed. My older son keeps the farm alive and that is a blessing how hard I see him working. The babe will be well treated, I swear, Mother. I just want to have someone to love again." She gently explains.

"I'm sure she will, my child. But, I have to warn you, she must have seen some horrible things for her young age. She didn't spoke out a word since we found her and we don't even know her name."

"Love and caring can do miracles, Mother." Finella continues, making Ylliria's heart beating a little faster and her thoughts drifting away East already.

Gisela brings in the little girl, all cleaned, her hair washed and wearing a new simple man's tunic, making it look like a gown by a belt around her waist. "You be a good girl and go with your new mother, all right?" She softly says, handing her to the woman. The babe starts to bawl as soon as she left's the novice arms, kicking with her feet in Finella's belly.

"Don't worry, she will calm down. I will sing her sweet songs and she will be appeased." The woman starts to sing a gentle tune in her ear, caressing her hair and kissing her cheeks. Little by little, the little girl calmed down, sucking on her thumb. Finella left the women table, mouthing a 'thank you' and giving them a wide smile.

"There are still some good things happening in this crazy world." Mother Clarise tells the others.

"Seeing this, there is still hope, aye. Hope for a halt at madness and blood. Hope for men to come to reason and build instead of destroying. We should pray the Gods." Sister Petronilla takes her two neighbors hands and starts to recite a prayer, taken up by all the others.

.


	60. Chapter 60

Chapter 60: Making Amends

"After Lady Ylliria left us at the abandoned farm, we got as far as the Mill. We saw Theon and his men questioning the folk back there. Bran couldn't let the Castle and the people. When we returned, we marched back and forth through the stream to throw off the hounds. I never though he would do such a thing." Osha softly explains while lighting a candle in the catacombs. "I just hope this will be the last place they will think to look."

"You're right on that... So far." Maester Luwin says.

"Who were the two lads that are hanging above the gates?"

"That must be Miller's grandsons, I guess."

"He killed them, burned them and passed them for the Little Lords." She sadly states.

"Only you saw them?"

"Aye."

"Then you mustn't tell them. Bran would blame himself." Maester Luwin's pleads.

"They'll never hear it from me. The little lads have suffered enough."

Behind them, in one of the dark tunnels, Rickon felt asleep, huddled in Hodor's arms. But Bran sits awake, listening to the conversation, tears slowly running down his face.

"At least, it seems the Lady Ylliria has make her way out of here. I pray the Old Gods she made it to the Sisters and is already heading down to rejoin the King." Maester Luwin intertwining his fingers.

"I pray the Gods too. Bring back Robb, My sweet Princess Ylliria. And, I'm begging you, Gods, to give her safety and strength." Bran whispers from his corner.

.

The second barge, going downstream on the Red Fork, is smaller than the one Mother Clarise, the Sisters and the Novices had taken previously to descend the White Knife. But, it has a large cabin where they can all sleep comfortably. The Captain is a old affable man, used to see little groups of Sisters of the Health God going down this or that part of the war zone. His own daughter is one of them and is for the moment following Lord Edmure Tully's army – Lady Starks' own brother – near High Heart, he told them at the first supper they took all together. It felt good to Ylliria to hear someone telling about people she knows, at least by name. It gives her the feeling of being close of them again.

"How long will it be till we arrive down Tumblestone River." She asks one evening to the Captain.

"No more that a day and a half, maybe less if the winds are with us." He says, lifting his head towards the sky. "But, I doubt we'll have more than we have now. So, yes, a day and a half would be a good estimation." He looks at her. "Why, are you eager to fight, my child?" He lets out a small laugh.

"No, not a all, Captain. Just tired of being on the road, that's all." She lies.

That last day and a half seemed to Ylliria more that a year and a half. She wishes she knew a spell to raise the winds or having such a large force that she would change this bloody barge into a speed boat just by pushing it while she runs in the river, as she once red in that old book about Giants behind the Wall.

Mother Clarise has notice her raising nervousness and her coming and going from the bow to their cabin. "Sister, sister, don't you see anything coming?" She teases Ylliria when she came down for the nth times.

"Fields and some more fields and woods sometimes, but not a sign of a tent or a soldier or even the remains of an old battle." The young Lady seriously answers, not have noticed that Mother Clarise was mocking her.

"My Child." She laughs. "Come and sit here with me for a moment."

"The Captain said it will take another day and a half." Ylliria miserably pleads.

"To arrive at the end of Tumblestone. We still have some leagues to go before reaching the Host. And I would advise you to stop your silly behavior. The others starts to ask questions about your sanity. They are afraid that you are ill in the head to have such a rush to see wounded and dead corpses."

"I... I'm sorry, Mother. I should be more careful." She nervously says.

Mother Clarise takes her hand and squeezes it gently. "Think of all the days already passes without seeing him and how long those lasted." She whispers in her ear. "And think now at the hours that only separate you from him. What is another day or two, compare to all these last months already behind you, huh?

"You are right, Mother. This was silly of me and not worthy of a Lady, nor a Sister of the Health God." Ylliria lightly blushes from shame.

Mother Clarise sighs. "Ah, love... I wish I was still twenty."

.

A horn is howling in the night. "I will kill that man." Theon throws another log in the hearth. "I don't care how many arrows they feather me with or how many spears they'll run through me... I will kill that horn-blowing cunt before I fall." He angrily talks, his gaze hocked in the flames.

"They want you to know you're surrounded." Maester Luwin blandly answers him, knowing who is blowing than horn.

"I know I'm surrounded. I know that because I stood on the battlements and saw I was surrounded."

"They want to trouble your sleep and to sap your spirit before..."

"Thank you, wise bald man." Theon cuts him. "Thank you for explaining siege tactics to me. No word from my father?" He sounds desperate.

"No!"

"Send more ravens." He orders.

"You killed all the ravens." The Maester sits down on the edge of the table.

Theon heavily sighs. "First time I saw Winterfell, it looks like something that been here for thousands of years... And would be here for thousands of years after I was dead. I saw it and I thought... Of course Ned Stark crushed our rebellion and killed my brothers. We never stood a chance against the man who lived here."

"Lord Stark did everything he could to make it your home."

"Yes, my captors were so very kind to me, you love reminding me of that. Everyone in this frozen pile of shit has always loved reminding me of that." Tears are slowly coming down Theon's face. "You know what it's like to be told how lucky you are to be someone's prisoner? To be told how much you owe them? And then to go back home to your real father..." He sobs, when the horn blows another long note. "I will kill that man!" He yells. "You want to know something, Maester, I really love her." He continues in a calmer tone.

"Who?" Luwin says a little bit surprise.

"Ylliria. She's one of the reasons why I came here in the first place, instead of taking a Castle near the sea. I wanted to give her a Castle. I really wanted our marriage to work and love her and make her happy. I wanted to show her that I could be a good Lord too."

"Why were you so brutal with her then? Why not telling her honestly what your feelings were?" The Maester softly asks.

"I tried… But, she won't listen. She pushed me away." His gaze suddenly hardens. "That pretentious little bitch thinks she can be a Queen now." He lets out a nasty laugh. "But, I saw her with Jon Snow... I saw that cunt hanging around that bastard. I'm sure those two have rolled in the straw more than once before he left for his fucking Wall. Oh! But then, she had no long to wait till another Stark felt in her web, that filthy spider-woman. Poor Robb, didn't last long before he felt for her. And to make sure she got him on a leash, before he left with the host, she pretends have given him her maidenhood! Let me laugh, was a long time she lost it with the bastard! I should have told him. He would have been hurt of course, but… That what a friend is for, no? I don't even know why I wanted to marry her in the first place… Now that I think of it, she's wasted goods. Not fitted for a Prince, nor a King." Theon seems to have forgotten Luwin's presence in the room, ranting like he was all alone. Only another blow from the horn makes him come back to reality. He stands up and starts to yell at the window. "I swear it to the Drowned God, the Old Gods, the New Gods and every other fucking God from every fucking land. I WILL KILL THAT MAN!" His voice suddenly brakes.

"Theon, calm down and listen to me." Maester Luwin softly says. "I serve Winterfell. And now, Winterfell is yours. I'm band by oath to serve you."

"And what's your council, trusted friend?" He asks with his rasped voice.

"Run!... Five hundred Northmen are waiting outside the walls and you have only twenty men. You can't win. Wait for nightfall and run."

"There is nowhere to run? I never make it back to the Iron-Islands and even if I did... Even if by some miracle I slip through the lines and made it home... They'll treat me as a coward. The Greyjoy who ran. The shame of the family." He lets himself fall on the chair again.

"Don't go home then. Join the Night's Watch. Once the man is taken the black, he's beyond reach of the law. All his past crimes are forgiven." He approaches and puts his arm on the back of the chair.

"I won't make it to the Wall. I won't make ten feet past the Winterfell's gates."

"There are ways. Some hidden passages ways build so the Lords of Winterfell could escape. The road will be dangerous. But, with a little luck... The Night's Watch is an ancient and honorable order. You'll have opportunities there."

"Didn't you listen to anything I've just said? Opportunities, you say? Yeah right, an opportunity for Jon Snow to cut my throat in my sleep." Theon pushes Luwin away.

"Mainly the opportunity to make amends for what you've done."

"I've done a lot, haven't I? Things I never imagine myself doing."

"I know you many years, Theon Greyjoy." Maester Luwin approaching him again. "You are not the men you are pretending to be." He gently puts a hand on his shoulder. "Not yet."

"You're maybe right. But, I've gone too far to pretend to be anything else now." The horn in the dark blows once more.

.


	61. Chapter 61

**Hello everyone, I think I messed up a little bit yesterday and stole you of a chapter. Put Chapter 62 instead of 61.**

**So sorry about that.**

**Here is it now in the right order.**

**.**

Chapter 61: Lost and Found

The wagon of the Sisters of the Health God, leaded by Ylliria, stops at a crossroad. Two peasants are working in their field. "Good morning?" She calls them, handing the reins to Gisela and jumping off. "Did you by chance hear about an encampment around?"

"We saw soldiers passing on that road the other morning." One of the peasant points at the left side of the crossroad. "But, to tell you if they were from the camp or going to it, I don't know."

"Were there any fights in this area lately? Are you still safe to work in your fields?" Ylliria asks concerned.

"We don't have much other choice, m'Lady. We have wives and children to feed. But, we don't complain. It didn't hit us too much yet. Are you sure you wanna go that way?" He looks at the women sitting in the wagon. "Not really safe for ladies back there."

"We are nurses." She adds, afraid that the men could think they were whores.

"Hum." He shrugs. "My guess, is to the right." He says, starting to work again.

"Thank you for your kindness. Be safe." She says, before upping on the bench again. "To the right then." She smiles, pulling on the right rein to make the horses turning.

Arriving at the top of a small hill on the road, they finally spots little columns of smoke coming out behind the trees in front of them. Ylliria's heart suddenly starts to beat faster. "Must be it. Finally."

"Let me take back the reins." Mother Clarise says. "I have the accreditations to show at the entrance."

"Mother?" Gisela calls, pointing at the road in front of them where two horsemen are arriving.

"What's that banner? Is it from the North? I can't see clearly." Clarise asks.

"The Direwolf! It's ours!" Ylliria shouts out. The others are staring at her. "I mean it our side. The good side. The North." She stammers.

"Ladies?" One of the horsemen politely bends. "May we be of any assistance?"

"We are from the Order of the Sisters of the Health God. We have an assignment to join the King of the North's Host, to care for his wounded and sick." Mother Clarise handing them out her letters.

"Will you please follow us? We will lead you to your Sisters." The soldier gently smiles.

Behind the small wood, the women discover a tide of tents scattered over a whole league on each side and way back till over the glade. Braziers burning here and there, soldiers walking everywhere, some cleaning their weapons, others drinking or eating or taking care of the horses. A vivid hubbub of metal, laughs, talks and animal noises surrounds them as they riding through the camp. The two horsemen lead them at the west side of the encampment where a large tent surrounded by smaller ones are set in half a circle. "Here is your end destination, Sister." One of the soldiers gently says. "I will send you our Captain to bring you to the King's tent."

"Thank you, my child." Mother Clarise softly answer. "You are very kind."

"I got a severe wound on a training session two years ago and it's one of your sisters that saved my life, m'Lady. Your Order has all my respect and admiration."

"You don't have to call us Lady, my child." She smiles. "We are simple servants of our Health God."

The soldiers bows again, turns his mount and leaves.

Mother Clarise gets down the wagon and enters the larger tent. A few minutes later two Sisters and their respective novices are coming out to help them to unload the supplies they were bringing. Presentations are made and immediately friendly conversations are rising between the newcomers and the Sisters in place. It sounds like all of them knew each other for years. "Belinda, let us find two beds side by side, so we can still stick together." Eva joyfully takes Ylliria's arm to lead her in the tent.

"Of course." She smiles, but knowing she will inevitably hurt her feelings when the truth about her will come out.

"Belinda, my child." Mother Clarise calls her when they were busy to put their few belongings in the trunks at the foot of the cots the two young women chose. "You will accompany me when the Captain of the Guard will fetch us to see the Kind." She softly says for the others not to hear. "Wait for me at the entrance of the tent. I would like avoid any questioning for now."

"When we come back, I would like to explain them the truth myself, with your permission, Mother. I don't want to run away like a thief."

"As you wish, my child."

At dusk, a six foot tall armored men, Ylliria does not recognize, appears at the entrance of the tent. He polity bows in front of Mother Clarise. "If you would please follow me, I'll now lead you to the King's tent, Sister."

"I'm Mother Clarise. This Lady will join me." She looks at Ylliria, not sure if she should name her.

"I'm the Lady Ylliria Bennett of Garrymount bringing important news from Winterfell to his Grace." She shyly speaks.

.

Jon and Qhorin are marching in the middle of the Wildlings; each attached and held by his own guard. They are descending a crest in a single file.

"We should be there by sundown. Your night will be short, Jon Snow. Mance knows how to make the crow sing." Ygrid taps with the flat of his longsword on his head, to tease him. "If you know what to say, you might survive through the night. Not talking is not a wise choice. Take my advise for granted." She flings him another knock.

"Careful with that, you might hurt yourself." He simply says.

When she's ready to repeat her movement, Jon suddenly ducks and makes her stumbling forward.

"It's the first time you see a longsword, have you? You look like a baby with a rattle" He mocks her.

Ygrid wants to slap him.

"Enough of that!" The Lord of Bones yells.

Taking advantage of the commotion, Qhorin knocks down his guard, grabs the saber from his belt and cuts his ropes. But, instead of taking it out to the Wildlings, he runs over to Jon, his weapon in the lead and starts to swing it at him. The young man defends himself as best he can, avoiding the Halfhand's first attacks. The old man, relentlessly punching and furiously knocking. Finally, two Wildlings are grabbing Qhorin away from Jon. "Tell me why, traitor?" He yells at the young man. "So you can send Mance Rayder an invitation to Castle Black, huh?"

"Let them fight!" The Lords of Bones says.

Ygrid drops Longclaw next to Jon that directly grabs it. Just in time to ward off Qhorin next strike, the steel of their swords crashing together is echoing around. All the Wildlings are watching, encircling them.

"That's it? That's all you can do, bloody little shit?" Halfhand's insulting him. "Did your traitor of a father teach you how to fight like a Lady?" He continues to heighten Jon's wrath. They are fighting hand to hand. "Or was it your whore mother maybe?" He gives him a hard head, making Jon falls on his knees. The young man jumps on his feet again and launches another strike, finally getting Qhorin's saber out of his hands and piercing his body through and through with his own weapon. "We are the watchers of the Wall." The old man whispers before falling dead on the frozen ground.

Jon is panting, slowly realizing what he just did.

"You can all tell Mance that this is the man who killed Qhorin Halfhand." Ygrid tells around.

The Lord of Bones approaches Jon, gently taking the sword out of his still attached hands and cuts the ropes to set him free. "Burn the body." He orders the others. "You don't want this one coming back for you." He says to Jon.

"Come with me, Jon Snow." Ygrid gently says. He follows her up a little slope giving on a huge valley below. In front of them lays Rayder's encampment. "Time for you to meet the King-beyond-the-Wall." She starts to go down. Jon gives a last look at Qhorin's body now burning and follows her.

.

Theon, his sword in his hand, paces along a small wall in front of the courtyard. He has assembled his twenty men. "You hear that?" He asks his man when the horn blows again. "That's the mating call of the Northmen. They want to fuck us. I haven't got a decent fuck in weeks, I'm ready for them. " He makes his men laugh. "I say every Ironman is worth dozen from the mainland's. Don't you think I'm right?"

"Aye." Some answers, whereof the huge bald man.

"We die today, brothers. We die, bleeding from a hundred wounds, with arrows in our necks and spears in our guts. But, our war cries will echo through eternity. They will sing about the battle of Winterfell, until the Iron-Islands have slipped beneath the waves. Every man, woman and child will know who we were and how long we stood. Aggar and Gelmarr, Wex and Urzen, Stygg and Blacklorren." He points at each man when he calls their names. "Iron-born warriors will cry out our names as they rushed onto the shores of Seagard and Faircastle." He finally gets down the few steps from the wall to be around his men.

"AYE!" They shout out.

"Mothers will names their sons from us.

"AYE!"

"Girl will think of us with their lovers inside them." His speech and the cheers of his men are putting him in a sort of trance state.

Another "AYE!" echoes around.

The next long horn-blow seems to reply too. "And whoever kills that fucking horn-blower, will stand in bronze above the shores of Pyke! What is dead may never die!" He yells, nearly break his vocal cords.

"What is dead may never die!" His men shout with him.

Theon lets out a huge war cry when suddenly Dagmer, holding a mace, knocks him out.

"I thought he'd never shut up!" The bald man guffaws.

"It was a good speech, though. I didn't want to interrupt." The first-mate sniggers, while they put him a sackcloth over his head.

"What is this? What are you doing?" Maester Luwin rushed out, wanting to interfere.

Dagmer grabs a spear from one of the soldiers and pierces it into the Maester's belly. "Let's go home now. I miss the sea." He tells the others, letting Luwin agonizing on the ground. Two others are dragging the unconscious Theon away.

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	62. Chapter 62

**Hello everyone, I think I messed up a little bit yesterday and stole you of a chapter. Put Chapter 62 instead of 61.**

**So sorry about that.**

**Here is it now in the right order.**

**.**

Chapter 62: The Reunion

Just before entering the King's tent, the Captain raises a hand in from of the two women, silently asking them to wait. Ylliria takes several deep breathes, trying to calm down her racing heart.

"Wouldn't you prefer going alone first, my child?" Mother Clarise gently asks, noticing her distress.

"No, please no! Let us go together, Mother. I don't want to stand in front of all his Lords on my own." She pleads, completely petrified.

"Are you that scared?"

"I can't really explain why, Mother. It is so stupid, isn't it? But, I think I fear Robb's reaction about me having left behind his two little brothers that I was supposed to care of."

"You had no other choice. By doing so, you have protected them, Ylliria. Once you will tell him the circumstances you were confronted with, he'll understand I'm sure." She pats one of her trembling hands.

"Mother, My Lady. The King will receive you now." The Captain holds the cloth open to let them in.

Robb sits in his throne-chair at the end of the long table, still reading some papers. "That will be all, My Lords." He says, not raising his gaze. The Lords are leaving the tent, not even looking at the two women standing there, to Ylliria's great relief.

She stares at him. "He has changed so much. He looks older or wiser maybe. I like his beard, though. It suits him well." She says for herself, lightly smiling.

"I'll be with you in a minute, My Ladies. Please make yourselves comfortable." He comes, his eyes still glued on the papers and taking a quill to sign some of them. "Give this to Lord Bolton." He says to his steward, handing him a roll.

"At once, Your Grace." The young man bows and leaves.

"So, Mother Clarise…" He finally lifts his gaze and freezes. "Ylliria?" He whispers, jumping out of his chair. "By all the Gods… What?... How?..."

"Your Grace." She curtseys, her whole body uncontrollably shaking.

He approaches, still not completely sure it's her. "What are you doing here? Where are Bran and Rickon?"

"Robb, Theon and some men form the Iron-Islands took Winterfell."

"We know that." He says a little more rudely that he wanted it.

"You already know? But… We had no raven to send word. We didn't know how to warn you, so Maester Luwin found a way for me to escape… I didn't want to let Bran and Rickon, but we didn't have another chance… So I traveled as fast as I could… And…" She gabbles before bursting into tears. Robb takes her in his arms, forgetting about the people that are still around them.

"Hush, My Sweet Lady. Calm down. You'll explain me this in details later. Let me first enjoy your presence for a second." He softly rocks her. She finally allows herself to wrap her arms around his neck, her sobs changing into cries.

"The Lady has lived through some rough moments, Your Grace." Mother Clarise softly intervenes. "She is a tough woman, I can tell, but I guess everyone has his limits." She tells the King, pouring a cup of wine and gently shows it to Ylliria for her to take it. "My Lady, drink this. It will make you feel a little better." Slowly, she let loose of her embrace, accepting the beaker and with both hands starts to drink little sips of it.

"Please sit down and we will calmly discuss about all this." Robb kindly leads the two women to the bench.

Ylliria tells him everything that happened since Theon arrived in Winterfell, her speech still punctuated by little sobs. The more she goes through it, the more the King's face turns gloomy.

"We've already send word to my Lord Bolton's bastard son. I'm surprised that he did not arrive sooner, before you had to flee. Where are Bran and Rickon now?"

"They went North, with Osha, Hodor and the Direwolves, hoping to find another Castle where they could settled and send you word from. The worst case was that they would have to go as far as Castle Black and find Jon. I really didn't want to let them, but Maester Luwin was right, better our chances, by taking opposite directions, not to be taken back by Theon and his Ironmen."

"How much where they?"

"He came with around forty men, in the early morning. Taking everyone by surprise. But, I hear he was expecting reinforcement from his sister. That is also why we had to rush our plans to escape. Did you get any news from Bran and Rickon yet?"

"Like I said nothing since we heard of Theon's taking over the Castle. Mother Clarise" He turns towards her. "I do not know how to thank you for having taking care of Ylliria." He smiles.

"It was only my duty, Your Grace. Luwin is a good friend of mine too; I couldn't refuse the help he requested from me."

"I will make sure that your Order will be supplied with everything you need. You just ask and it will be provided."

"Your Grace is very generous. May I ask your permission to leave? There are a lot of things I need to settle with the other Sisters. And I'm sure you have other matters to discuss and need some privacy." She gently smiles back at Robb. "My Lady, I leave you be now. I will make sure your belongings will be brought to you."

"Mother? I will come by the morrow to talk with Eva, Gisela and the Sisters. Like I told you, I would like to explain myself to them. I owe them the truth, after everything we've been through together."

"You will be forever welcome in our place, my child." Mother Clarise kisses her forehead. "Your Grace." She bows and leaves the tent.

.

Osha slowly crawls out of the crypt.

"Osha, what are you doing?" Bran whispers at her as he sees her standing up in bright daylight.

"I heard some noises, like battle. I needed to know what that was." She softly answers.

"Hodor, take me and follow her." He orders the giant. "Rickon, you stay close."

When they all arrive under the west gate, they see smoke coming from several corners of the courtyard. Everything that was wood is completely burned down, half the Castle seems to be destroyed and there are corpses here and there, mostly men of Winterfell's smallfolk and probably butchered by the Ironmen.

Summer and Shaggydog are weeping in front of the Wood's gate, trying to draw their attention. Bran points at them to Hodor.

The animals lead them to the Weirwood where they find Maester Luwin leaning against the trunk. Rickon escapes Osha's hand and runs to him. He slowly raises a hand, gently stroking the young boy's cheek.

"Tell us what medicine to get from your chamber?" Bran asks when Hodor kneels aside the old man.

"We'll make you better. If only Ylliria was here, she would know what to do." Rickon adds.

"I feel just fine, my boys. Don't you worry." Luwin answers with a smile.

"They burned it down." Bran darkly says. "They burned everything." He raises his voice.

"Not everything. Not you. But, they may come back. You have to run North like I told you to do."

"No, Robb will be back any time now. Ylliria must have warned him. I'm sure the reinforcement are already on their way."

"Listen to me. Reinforcement was already here. Didn't you hear the horn-blows those last few days?"

"But, where are they now? The whole Castle is deserted." Bran asks confused.

"Probably set off in pursuit of the Ironmen. Theon told me that his father had taken Deepwood Motte and Torrhen's Square. You cannot stay here, My little Lords, you have to leave Winterfell." He explains. "Take your warmest clothes, as much food as you can find and carry and go North..."

"North's the wrong way." Osha cuts the Maester. "Their mother and brother are South." She continues more quietly.

"We don't know exactly where the host is at the moment. You might walk in circle for weeks before finding them. And there are too many enemies on the South roads." He turns his head back to Bran. "You go to the Wall and find Jon. He will look after you and he'll let your mother know you're safe."

"I don't want to leave you." The young boy takes the Maester's hand.

"No more that I want to leave you. I brought you into this world, both of you." He grabs Rickon's hand. "And I saw both your faces every day since and for that I consider myself very lucky." He has an acute pain coming from his belly that he tries to hide it as much as he can. "Go now... Hodor, take them away!" He orders. "I'll be right here." He lies.

The giant gently lifts Bran in his arms and takes Rickon by his free hand and heads back towards the castle road.

"Osha." Luwin softly calls. "You must protect them." He grabs her by the collar. "You're the only one who can. You may even have to protect them against your own kind."

"I don't have great love for my own kind, Maester. And I start to like the Southern life, in some ways. Well, at least, you were all kind with me." She sadly answers.

Luwin has another sharp pain coming from his wound.

"I'll get you milk of the poppy. Tell me where to find it." The Wildling pleads.

"I don't want milk of the poppy." He stares at one of the daggers she is wearing on her belt. She touches the handle of the smallest one. The Maester nods. "Do it quickly."

With dark columns of smokes still pouring out from the Winterfell Castle in their back, the little group, accompany by the two Direwolves, are marching on King's Road heading North. Osha and Hodor have built a barrow with bits and piece they found, to transport Bran easier and all the food they could gathered from the cellars.

A long march are ahead of them and winter is coming.

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	63. Chapter 63

**After this chapter, I will continue the story from the books (and not the TV series anymore). **

**You find here the last scene of Season 2 - Episode 10.**

**So, please note that some stuff I'll use might probably be *SPOILERS* out of Season 3. **

**Of course, we don't know how the scriptwriters will lead their own storyline (will they still follow the books or not), but I preferred advising you beforehand. **

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Chapter 63: The Rise of the Undead.

Robb dismisses the rest of the people in his tent. He gently pulls Ylliria out of her chair and takes her back in his arms, holding her tight. "You cannot imagine how worried I was for you all and how frustrated I felt not to be able to come to your rescue." He whispers.

"I missed you so much, Robb." She sobs again. "They killed Mikken and Sir Rodrik. Theon even threatens to harm your brothers if…"

"He will die for everything he did, Ylliria! I promise you that." He cuts her. "And by the morrow, I will send some more men to the North to fetch Bran and Rickon."

She slowly gets rid of his embrace, her gaze dropping on the floor.

"What is it?" He gently asks, cupping her face in his hands.

"There is something else you need to know about." More tears slowly rolling over her cheeks. "I… Theon threatens me he would take it out to Bran and Rickon if I refused to..." She turns her back on him. "If I refused to marry him."

"WHAT?" Robb burst out.

"Maester Luwin did all he could to try to reason with him and find ways to delay the ceremony, but Theon took me unexpectedly to the woods the very same day that we had plan our escape."

"Did he…?" He briskly asks, holding his fury as much as he could.

"No, we drugged him during supper and tied him up on his bed, just before we ran away."

"We?"

"Osha and I. Maester Luwin gave us the potion."

"So, the marriage was not consumed?"

"No."

"So, you're not legally married." He says in a relief tone.

"That's what Maester Luwin said too."

"My pardons, Your Grace?" The Steward calls, entering the tent. "Your mother is here."

"Let her in. I asked her to come."

"Ylliria!" Lady Catelyn directly runs to her to take her in her arms. "I couldn't believe my ears when they told me."

"My Lady… I'm so sorry."

"Hush now, you'll explain me everything later." She lifts her head to her son. "Did Lord Bolton's son recaptured Winterfell?"

"Not that we know of, mother. He was still not arrived when Ylliria left. Would you allow her to stay with you in your tent?"

"Of course, I wasn't seeing it any differently." She takes the young woman's arm. "Come. I'll make you prepare a hot bath and get you some clean clothes." She leads her to the exit.

Ylliria turns her head around to Robb. He makes her a gesture that they will see each other again later.

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Sam, Grenn and Dolorous Edd are searching for animal dejection to feed their campfires.

"And I thought we were coming so far to fight Wildlings." Grenn complains. "Is this goat?" He shows Ed a frozen turd.

"Moos." Edd answers, throwing it in his basket.

"People shouldn't be obliged to burn shit to keep warm." Grenn adds.

"Well, if you see a tree, let me know."

They suddenly hear the horn blowing in the far. "It's Jon and Halfhand. They're back." Sam says full of hope. But, a second blast echoes.

"Two, that's for Wildlings." Grenn grabbing his sword.

"We are not fighting alone. We have to go back to camp. Come on!" Edd orders them just before the horn sends his plaintive call a third time. "RUN!" He yells.

The time he realizes, Sam finds himself alone. "Hey, you guys, wait! Wait for me!" He calls, finally starting to run. A few steps further, he falls flat on his belly, discovering Edd's basked knocked over on the ground. "Grenn! Edd!" He yells at them, but they have vanish into the mist, ice-cold winds coming from nowhere have suddenly turn everything into a huge white cloud. Sam looks all around him, the fear slowly making him lose his sense of directions. For his left, he sees dark shadows coming towards him. "Oh no… The White-walkers." He jumps on his feet and run as fast as he can straight ahead, just to get away from the treat. On his way, he finds a huge rock where his large body can hide behind, breathing heavily and hoping the Others will go their way without noticing him. The White-walkers are slowly marching in the snow, their icy blue eyes wide open, gazing at nothing in particular. Suddenly, Sam sees the hoofs of a black horse stopping right next to him. He slowly raises his gaze to the poor animal that has his throat completely slashed open. With all the courage he could manage, he dares lifting his eyes a little higher to see who is mounting the dead horse. There is a huge man, all skin and bone, wearing an ice spear in his hand that seems to be a leader. He slowly turns his head and looks down at Sam, his luminescent blue eyes staring at the poor lad. Sam stays as quiet as possible, trying to stop his teeth from chattering and holding his sobs. The leader rises his ice-spear in the air and lets out a giant inhuman war-scream, like he is ordering a charge and continues his way, leaving Sam unharmed. Behind him, hundreds and hundreds of White-walkers are slowly continuing their march south towards the Wall.

.

"My Lady, before anything else, I would like to apologize. I would have brought you your sons back to you, but the circumstances didn't allow me to do so." Ylliria says, while they were marching to Lady Stark's tent.

"Are they safe?" Catelyn softly asks.

"They were fine when I left them in the hands of Hodor and Osha, their Direwolves on their side. Since then, I pray the Gods every day to keep them safe."

"I pray them myself, all the time these last months. Since the war started, I learned to be patient and to take strengths out of my griefs."

"I don't want you to think I just ran away, saving my own life." Ylliria pleads.

"I know, my dear, I know." Lady Catelyn gently smiles.

When they enter the tent, the young woman comes face to face with Brienne.

"Brienne, let me present you the Lady Ylliria Bennett, just arriving from Winterfell. She is like a daughter to me."

"Ylliria, this is Brienne of Tarth. By odd circumstances, that I will tell you later, she became my sworn-sword."

"A sworn-sword?" She asks, surprised to hear a woman having such a title.

"It's a long story." The tall woman answers.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Brienne." The young Lady lightly curtseys.

"Brienne will be enough, My Lady."

"Ylliria will be good too then." She smiles.

During the whole evening, Ylliria explained in details to the Lady Stark and Brienne everything that happened in Winterfell since they left. Some tears are shed at some of the memories and even laughs at some others.

Then, the Lady Stark starts to explain what happened to her during all these last months.

Ylliria suddenly freezes when she hears the Lady telling her the story on how Robb will have to marry one of Lord's Frey daughters at the end of the War. "So, Theon said the truth. And Lady Stark does not seem to know about Robb and I. He didn't tell her anything." She says for herself, lightly feeling dizzy.

"Ylliria, what is it? Are you feeling unwell?" Catelyn worriedly asks her when she sees the young Lady trembling. "You are as white as a sheet, my dear... Brienne call the Maester." She turns towards the tall woman.

"No, don't... It won't be necessary. I'm sorry, I didn't want to worry you, My Lady. It must be a mix of today's emotions and the tiredness of the travel that are suddenly falling over me." She manages to say.

"Are you sure?" Brienne asks.

Ylliria nods and tries to smile at her.

"It's getting really late. I think we all need a good night sleep." Lady Starks rises from the bench.

The back of the tent was converted into sleeping corners, separated by long colored sheer curtains. Each of them furnished with a small bed with sheets and skins to keep warm, a trunk, a little table and a basin with water.

"Good night, My Lady. Good night, Brienne." Ylliria gently says before entering her designated place.

"Sleep peacefully, My Dear. We'll talk some more on the morrow." Lady Stark answers.

"Good night, My Lady." Brienne says, going on the opposite site of the tent.

"Where is she going? Is she not staying with us?" The young lady asks.

"She prefers mounting guard and be around the men in the encampment." Catelyn gently smiles.

"She seems to be a strong person."

"And you can add stubborn too. But, she knows what honor and duty means, maybe even more that some high Lords." She finally says as she enters her corner.

As soon as Ylliria lays down on her bed, she cannot stop herself from softly crying. She was expecting a lot of things, had imagine a lot of scenarios for her reunion with Robb. But, certainly not the one where she has the feeling of having lost it all.

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	64. Chapter 64

Chapter 64: Telling the Truth

The next morning, after Ylliria broke her fast, she advises Lady Catelyn of her intention to go to the Sisters of the Health God quarters for the day, among others things to retrieve her belongings.

"You look so somber this morning, Ylliria. Is there something upsetting you?" Lady Stark gently asks. "If you are still worrying that I would blame you for letting Bran and Rickon, please be assured that I understand. You took the best decision you could for all of you to stay alive."

"Thank you, My Lady. It's just…" She heavily sighs, wanting to tell her the truth about Robb and his previous commitments. But, finally she lowers her gaze, giving up. "I just feel tired. That's all." She lies. "Don't you worry, My Lady. It'll be better in a few days." She tries to crack a smile. "I will go now." She rises from the bench and hastily leaves the tent before Lady Stark would question her any further.

The Sisters' tents are on the opposite side of the camp. She has some trouble to find her way around this large encampment and has to stop several times to ask directions to soldiers. Suddenly, she feels something softly pulling at her gown. When she turns around, she lightly jumps by surprise. "By all the Gods, Grey-Wind, you grow huge!" She says, kneeling in front of the Direwolf and starting to pet it between his ears. "Let me look at you. I'm so glad to see you're still around unharmed. You know, your two brothers, Summer and Shaggydog are fine too." She gently shakes its heads between her hands, the animal gladly letting her get on with it. "You have no clue what I'm telling you, do you?" She softly laughs when the wolf lets out a small bark, as to prove her wrong. She kisses its forehead. "I have to go for now, Grey. We'll see each other later." She lies when she feels her sadness surfaced again. The wolf gently grabs her sleeve, stopping her from walking away. "Grey, come on, I have no time to play now. I will come to visit you later. You ever did anything wrong to me, so we are still friends, all right." She gives him a last stroke and turns around to continue her way, the animal tilting his head on one side before lopping back to the King's tent.

Ylliria finally recognizes the Sisters of the Health Gods' tents from a distance. She sees Eva in front of the dormitory and waves at her. "And where were you last night?" The novice briskly asks her, putting her fists on each side of her waist.

"I need to talk to you all." The young Lady just answers, taking the young woman by the arm and leading her inside the tent. By luck, Gisela is already inside. "Girls, I owe you the tell you the truth about me." She sits on a bunk, making a gesture for the two other young women to do the same. "My name is not Belinda and I'm not an orphan kitchen-maid wanting to become a Sister."

"What? Who are you then?" Eva letting herself fall on the opposite bed, totally disconcerted.

"My real name is Lady Ylliria Bennett of Garrymount."

"You're a Lady?" Gisela comes, as much abash as Eva.

"Yes. I was raised at Winterfell Castle after my parents died. Some men from the Iron-Islands came to take it and I had to flee and advise R... The King. It's his Castle, now that Lord Start is no more. I had to lie to all of you for my own security."

"We understand that, but, why didn't you tell us who you really were during the travel, after you knew us better?"

"I tried several times to tell you, but Mother Clarise advised me not to. In case, we could be taken prisoner. The less you knew about me the better. It really was to keep you safe."

"So now, you are leaving us then?" Eva somberly comes, lowering her gaze on the ground.

"Maybe not... There are some unforeseen changes and I made some thinking last night... But, before I tell you all about it, I have to talk to Mother Clarise first." Ylliria takes her friend's hand in hers. "I'll see you after that, all right? And I'll let you ask all the questions you want. I promise to answer you in all truth and honesty." She smiles before leaving the two young woman.

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Arrived at the end of the slope, the Lords of Bones grabs Jon by the arm. "Might be you fooled the others, crow, but don't think you'll be fooling Mance. He'll take one look at you and know if you're true of false. And if his scale tips to 'false', I'll make a cloak out of your wolf, open your soft boy's belly and I'll cook up your guts." He threatens him.

"Don't mind him, Jon Snow. When Mance will hear what you did to Halfhand, he'll take you quick enough." Ygrid intervenes, putting herself in the middle of the two men and looking dagger at the Lord of Bones.

"Take me for what?" Jon asks when the Wildling man finally turns his back on them.

"For one of us!" She wryly laughs. "You really think you're the first crow that left the Wall to fly free?"

"And when I'll be free, will I be also free to go?"

"Sure you will. And we'll be free to kill you!" She grins.

"You definitively have a strange concept of the word freedom." He sighs, following her through the hundreds of campfires and little tents along the valley of the Milkwater. He suddenly feels a presence behind him and briskly turns around. "Ghost!" He shouts out. "You know I hate when you sneak on me like that." He starts to pet his animal. "Where were you been, huh?" He continues his way, feeling a little bit better to have his Direwolf on his side again. The Wildlings, sitting around their fires, are suspiciously looking at them passing by. Men, women, kids, even babies. "How could Mance Rayder lead all those people into a war? They seemed to be regular folk, not warriors." He thinks for himself. A little further down, he sees sheep, goats and steers wandering freely along the riverbank. "This camp seems to stretch endlessly. But, I could not see any defenses around, only a few outriders patrolling their own perimeter. The Wildlings are in numbers, but The Night's Watch has discipline. And like father once told me: Discipline beats numbers nine times out of ten." He notes.

They finally arrive in front of a huge tent, three times the size of any other they had passed. Jon presumes it's the King-beyond-the-Wall's one. A soft tune is coming out of it. "Music?" He asks Ygrid.

"We, free folk, like music and dance too. You really know nothing, Jon Snow." She smiles, saluting the two guards at the entrance. They have long spears with one hand and a round leader shield hangs from their other arm. "Your wolf will have to stay outside." She tells Jon before entering.

Jon knees in front of Ghost. "You heard her, you stay here. I'll come back quickly." He scratches him between the ears.

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"Come, do enter, my child." Mother Clarise smiles, welcoming Ylliria with a hug. "So, how was your reunion with the King?"

"Not what I've expected or imagined."

"I told you, he would understand once he knew all about it."

"Mother." The young woman heavily sighs. "I would like to ask you if it would be..." She cannot continue her sentence, not capable to hold her tears any further.

"My child, what is wrong?" Mother Clarise takes her in her arms and leads her to sit next to her on her bunk.

"He is promised to another." She sobs. "He broke our engagement and will soon marry Lord Frey's daughter."

"Oh, dear. Poor child. I'm so sorry." The Sister gently rocks her. "There, there." She hands her a cloth to wipe away her tears. "I'm sure there is an explanation to all this. He didn't throw you out, I hope?"

"No, I just left his mother's tent pretending I was coming here to take my belongings. When we finally were alone in his tent last evening, he didn't even kiss me. That should have warned me." Ylliria blows her nose, rising her head from the Mother's shoulder. "Mother, I'd like to join your congregation and become a Sister of the Health God!" She suddenly flings.

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Around the end of the afternoon, Robb enters his mother tent, a huge smile over his face. "Mother." He kisses her forehead. "Brienne." He slightly bents his head. He looks around the tent. "Where is Ylliria?"

"She left early this morning to the Sister's quarter to get her belongings. She won't be long now."

"Your Grace, may I serve you a cup of wine?" Brienne gently asks.

"Aye, with pleasure. Thank you."

"What are today's news, Your Grace?" Lady Starks knowing her son just left his council.

"Lord Umber and Lord Karstark have send on the run some Lannister's men in Oxcross. And took some more prisoners too. I'm starting to ask myself what to do with all of those."

"Another victory, that's good." She gently speaks.

"Aye. And more men dead too." Robb sighs. "I've send another hundred men to the North with the order to find Bran and Rickon and bring them back here."

"Are you sure?"

"Where else would you like me to send them? I can't trust any Northern Castle anymore, with Balon Greyjoy attacking our west coast's cities and continuing his march east."

"We could go to Riverrun. There it's still safe. And you could regroup your army."

"Maybe. Let me think about it. For now, it's the Crag and Ashemark I target. Getting the closest possible to Casterly Rock and avoiding Lord Tywin to get back to it."

"Will you stay for supper with us, Robb?"

"With pleasure, mother."

Catelyn goes away to give her orders to her staff while Brienne stays with the King. "Your Grace. I don't want to interfere with private matters and maybe I red the signs wrong. But this morning, I noticed the Lady Bennett was quite in a somber mood. Last evening she was joyful, till your Lady mother started to fill her in with what happened since you were in front of the Twins. And all of a sudden the Lady felt ill. When Lady Catelyn asks her, she blamed the tiredness of her travel. But I have sense and can read faces. In my humble opinion, there is something that was bothering her."

Robb immediately understands what Brienne is referring too and starts to blame himself not having talk about it with her already yesterday. "Thank you for letting me know, Brienne. I'll talk with the Lady Bennett."

They all wait till late that evening for Ylliria to come back from the Sister, but finally took their supper without her.

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	65. Chapter 65

Chapter 65: Look and Learn

"Did you already talk with the King about your intentions, Ylliria?" Mother Clarise asks, surprised of the young Lady's sudden decision to join the Other of the Sisters of the Health God.

"No, I think I was enough taken for a fool and humiliated over the last mouths. It's time I take my life back in my own hands and do as I'm pleased." Ylliria firmly states.

"I don't think this is going to be that simple. You are a King's subject and still a Lady of noble blood, my child."

"His Grace wouldn't dare command me. With what kind of explanation or excuse would he come up to?"

"Child, you feel hurt and you are angry right now. Let us keep the night to think it through."

"I already though about it last night, Mother, and my decision is taken. I can't stay Lady Stark's First-lady and pretend all is fine and well. And not to speak attending this Frey wedding. It'll be above my strength."

"The war is far from an end. A lot of things may still change. If I were you, I would not take such a hasty decision. Taking the black veil is for life, my child. You'll take an oath to enter the order and swear to stay celibate. Not to mention that no Lady should enter..."

Ylliria looks dagger at Mother Clarise. "You're a Lady and you did it!" She flings.

"Even if we share some common facts in our lives, does not make our stories alike, my child!" The Sister suddenly raising her voice.

"If you don't want me, say so. I'll know what else to do."

"Which will be?"

"Going North, to the Wall. I'm sure they'll have need for nurses too."

Mother Clarise slowly shakes her head. "There are no women at the Wall, only for whores. They have Maesters to take care of their pains. And those are dangerous grounds, unfriendly and cold." She comes more calmly.

"I have a good friend at the Wall, he will certainly help me... Or, if that doesn't work, I always could go to the Iron-Islands. I'm still married to the bloody Lord's heir, am I not? Whatever Maester Luwin told me of a possible annulment. Why would I, since I will never marry Robb? My life is a total ruin, like my family's Castle. This must be some Gods punishment. Our ancestors must have been cursed and we have to pay the price." Ylliria is so mad that she totally forgot Mother Clarise's presents and starts to talk to herself, pacing around the tent.

"My sweet Child. You are in a fit of anger and I understand, you have all reasons to be." She takes Ylliria's head between her hands to oblige her to look her in the eyes. "But, don't play the role of a martyr. This is just life, ups and downs, goods and bads. You will learn from your mistakes and misjudgments. All that will make you wiser and stronger, if need be. Take your life back in your own hands, aye. I agree, I did it too. But, do it not to hurt yourself more, do it to raise you above the rest of them. Pride some say, I just call it self-respect." The Sister gently takes her back in her arms. "Rejoin the novices and Sisters in the other tent. Let us have all supper together tonight and talk about all this, all right? Would you grant me this favor?" She softly says.

Ylliria, between tears of sadness and tears of rage, slowly acknowledges Mother's Clarise's words and finally nods.

.

Jon looks around him and counts six people, none of them paying him any mind. The ground of Mance Rayder's tent was covered with all sorts of animal skins. There is only one seat where a fat man is eating a wing of chicken, his massive arms bound with thick gold bands graven with runes. He is wearing a heavy shirt of black ringmail certainly taken off a ranger and a pair of dark breeches that must have been a hundred years old. On a large table to the right, a tall bald man in a leather shirt, stands over a map as he was studying it by heart. A two-handed greatsword in its sheath lays across his back. He might have been good-looking if only he had ears. "Probably lost from the frostbite or some enemy's knife." Jon says for himself. In a corner, adark young man and a pretty blonde woman were sharing a horn of mead while a pregnant woman stood over a brazier cooking. The last person, sitting cross-legged on a pillow in front of him, is a gray-haired man, playing a lute and softly singing. The young man wonders which one of those could be Mance Rayder.

"What's this crow doing here?" The tall bald man asks Ygrid, suddenly getting away from his map.

"This is the man who killed Qhorin Halfhand, Styr." she comes.

"This boy?" He flings. "The Halfhand should have been mine. Do you have a name, crow?"

"Jon Snow, Your Grace." Jon makes a few steps ahead and lightly bows.

"Your Grace?" The man starts to laugh. "Are you taking me for a king, boy? Close your beak and turn around. You might find who you're looking for." He points behind Jon.

The young man slowly turns around and sees only the cross-legged lad that was singing when he entered. The man slowly rises. "I'm Mance Rayder. And you are Ned Stark's bastard, the Snow of Winterfell."

"How do you know...?"

"That's a tale for later." The King-beyond-the-Wall gently smiles. "Tell me, Jon Snow, is it true what Rattleshirt's telling?"

Jon is staring at him for a moment. He is of medium height, slim but you could see that he is a trained soldier, with cunning brown eyes. There is no crown on his head, no gold rings, no jewels. "He does not look like a King, nor a Wildling either." The young man things for himself. "Who's Rattleshirt?" He voices.

"The Lord of Bones." Ygrid whispers.

"He has a name?"

"Of course, all Wildlings have names." Mance starts to laugh. "Some fables have a thick skin in the South, it seems. Wildling does not mean uncivilized. So, you killed my old friend Qhorin?"

"I did." Jon answers, lowering his gaze on the ground.

"The Shadow Tower will never be the same without him." The King says with sadness in his voice. "Halfhand was myenemy, but also my brother... In another life." He approaches the young man to look in his eyes. "So, do I have to thank you or curse you for your deed?"

Jon clears his throat. "You would thank me for slaying your enemy but curse me for killing your friend."

"Well answered!" Mance smiles. "Where do you come from exactly?"

"Winterfell."

"I already know that! Which Night's Watch holdfast I meant." The King comes harsher that he would have liked.

"Oh... Castle Black."

"And what brings you up the Milkwater, so far from home sweet home?" Mance didn't wait for Jon's answer and turns to the Lord of Bones. "How many were they?"

"Five. Three of them are dead. One fled up the mountain not to be found and then you have this one." Rattleshirt points at the young man.

"I'll speak with the lad alone now. Leave us, all of you!" The King suddenly orders.

.

Around the long table in the middle of the main tent, all the Sisters and novices are gathered for supper. Ylliria, sitting next to Mother Clarise, seems to be calmer than before.

After the discussion she had with her this afternoon, she had preferred to go for a long walk in the camp, thinking of all the things the Mother had told her. But, all she could feel was the atrocious pain in her chest. Waves of images from the past year are bumping into each other in her head. The good memories made her cry and the bad ones made her wanting to scream in anger. When she marched back to the Sister's quarters, she still felt totally lost, really not knowing what the best decision for her future was.

"As you all might know by now, our Novice Belinda is not what she claimed to be." Mother Clarise says, rising from the bench as she was tired to see that no one was talking around the table. "And for those who still might bear her grudges over her lies, let me confess that I was aware of it since the beginning and that so, I'm part of her lies and as to be blamed as much as her." She pauses to look at all of them. "These are cruel times we live in, my children. It is war in our realm. Kings against Kings, brothers against brothers. The only thing this Lady did, was trying to survive in the middle of the Seven Hells. By her doings, she protected herself and she also protected you all. Trusting too much and too easy makes your life shorter, never forget this lesson. Now, if you have questions for our Lady, please do so. She promised to answers all of them in truth." She sits down again, looking at Ylliria when she gets up to speak.

"First of all, I'd like to apologize to all of you for the wrong I could have caused. It was not my intentions to hurt you. And please, do call me Ylliria. As Mother Clarise just told you, I was only trying to protect myself to be certain to arrive here and advise the King of what happened in Winterfell."

"Soldiers say that it was his best friend that took the Castle." Gisela suddenly comes.

"Theon Greyjoy was Lord Eddard Stark's ward. He lives among us since he was ten. And yes, the King though of him a good friend and ally." She sits down again.

"How is it to live in a Castle?" Eva shyly asks.

"Cold." Ylliria jests. "Apart from the hard walls and the solid roof over your head, it's like living in a convent or in any other house, I guess."

"Did you see the King already?"

"Yes, I did." She softly says, lowering her gaze. As the silent falls over the table again, she raises her head to see twelve pairs of eyes staring at her. "Oh, you'd like me to describe him." She lightly smiles. "Well, he is tall, around six foot. Strongly build, but not too muscular... Hum... He has sweet green eyes, that are generally kind, but there turn into lighting flashes when he goes angry."

"You already saw his Grace angry?" Sister Nesta intervenes.

"Aye."

"And his wolf? I heard he rides on it to go to battle?" Sister Anna, arrived with the previous contingent, questions.

"It's a Direwolf. And no, he does not ride him. He is riding a regular horse. But, it is true that Grey-Wind is always near him. The King raised him since it was a pup."

The gentle questioning continued for the rest of the evening and the more it went, the more Ylliria found herself at home among those women.

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	66. Chapter 66

Chapter 66: Putting one's mind at ease.

The next morning, Ylliria goes for Mother Clarise's tent. "May I have a word with you, Mother?"

"Certainly, my child. Did you have a nice sleep? Did the Gods give you their council?"

"In certain ways, Mother. They have calm my anger at least. And yesterday's supper with all of you have also soothed my sorrows a bit."

"Good. So, you are coming to say goodbye then?"

"Not forthwith." She smiles. "With your permission, I would like to ask you a last favor to stay with you for another few days. I can be of some help, you know that. And putting my mind on something else will help me to heal the wounds of my heart before returning to my Lady's duties."

"You prepared your speech well, I'll grant you that." Mother Clarise softly laughs. "But, I like to hear you've come to more reasonable words, my child. All right, you may stay. All arms and goodwill are always welcome." Ylliria is ready to thank the mother when she cuts her with a gesture of the hand. "One condition, though. You will send word to the King and to the Lady Stark to advise them the reasons of your decision to stay with us... Temporarily." She insists on that last word. "And that you will return to the Lady Stark's attendance in a few days."

"I will, Mother." Ylliria lowers her gaze.

"You'll hand the letters over to me. Not with the intention to read them..."

"You don't trust me?" She comes, a little shocked.

"I slowly start to know you, my child. And I can allege that with certainty, because I was once exactly like you, stubborn and wild." Mother Clarise cracks a smile. "Ask Sister Denise to provide you with a novice garment and you'll come with me to make the round of the wounded and sick we have still in our care. I'd like to watch you in action and ask you some questions on your healing knowledge." She continues in a more serious tone.

"Aye, Mother. And thank you." The young woman lightly curtseys and leaves the tent.

An hour later, Mother Clarise and Ylliria are going from one row of bunks to the other, the Sister asking the young Lady questions on what would she do in this or that type of injury or sickness. And later that afternoon, as promised, Ylliria handed Mother Clarise one letter to the King and another for the Lady Stark.

.

"Sit, if you like." Mance says to Jon when his tent was empty of all people beside the woman in front of the brazier. "Are you hungry?"

"I would gladly have a bite, Your Grace. Thank you." Jon comes, grabbing a pillow to sit on.

"Your Grace?" The man laughs. "Mace will suffice. The free folk all do... A horn of mead?"

"Yes, please."

The King pours himself the two horns. "Dalla, bring half a roasted chicken to the lad." He gently asks the woman. "Dalla is my so called wife... Well, she bares my child anyway." He explains turning his face back to Jon.

"I understood that Wildlings don't believe in marriage vows... Nor any other vows as it seems." The young man states.

Mance just chuckles. "I promise you a tale on how I know you, didn't I? It'll be a more pleasant conversation while we eat. So, did you made a theory about our meetings?"

"The Lord of Bones sent you word?" Jon shrugs.

"We have no trained ravens. No, I know you by face. I've seen you before. Twice to be precise."

"When you still were a brother of the Watch?"

"Aye, that was the first time. You were just a boy when I was one of the escorts of Lord Commander Qorgyle coming down to see your father at Winterfell. I was walking around the courtyard when I saw you, your brother Robb and the Lady Ylliria up the watch-wall. You had built up a pile of snow above the gate, waiting for someone to pass underneath."

"Oh, I remember that!" Jon softly laughs. "You swore not to tell."

"That promise, at least, I kept." Mance smiles.

"We finally dumped it on a guardsman call Fat Tom. He was so pissed. He ran after us and caught me first. It was Ylliria that dissuade him from spanking my butt red. She always had a way of smoothing things with just her smile and a soft word." Jon's voice fading away at the end. After a moment, he comes out of the blue. "You said you saw me twice. When was the other time?"

"When King Robert came to Winterfell to make your father his Hand."

"That can't be so." The young man says in disbelief.

"It was. When your father knew the King was coming, he send a raven to your uncle Benjen at the Wall, so he might come for the feast. There are more relations between the Brothers and the Wildlings than you think. And soon enough the word arrived to my ears. I could not resist paying Winterfell another visit. Benjen didn't know me and I didn't think your father would have remembered a young crow he briefly met years ago. I wanted to see the King of the Seven Kingdoms with my own eyes. So, I went."

"But, the Wall..." Jon wonders.

"The Wall can stop an army, but not a man on his own. With a bag of silver on my belt, I scaled the ice near Long Barrow, walked a few league through the New Gift land and bought a horse. The night your father feasted Robert, I sat in the back of the hall on a bench with others, listening to the singer and taking a good look at the King-slayer, the Imp, beautiful Queen Cercei and all of you Stark's children and wards; and your pup wolves following you everywhere. The Lady Bennett has grown a very fine woman. More mead?" Mance stares at Jon to see his reaction.

"No, thank you. But, if you had been taken?" He simply asks, trying to show nothing of his emotions, despite the eagerness he has to ask Mance why he mentioned Ylliria twice already. "Could he know her family?" He wonders.

"Your father would have had my head off, for sure." The King-beyond-the-Wall shrugs. "So tell me the truth, Jon Snow. Are you a craven that turned his cloak from fear? Or is there another reason that brings you here with us?"

The young man puts his horn aside. "Tell me why you turned yours and I'll tell you why I turned mine."

.

After the daily war council with his Lords, the King's squire hands Robb a stack of papers. Letters he dictates that have to be signed, raven messages and various other documents that require his attention. "Thank you. And poor me a cup of wine before you leave." He orders the young lad. All of a sudden, his eyes are attracted by a familiar handwriting on one of the squared papers in front of him. He eagerly unfolds it and starts to read while the squire puts down his wine. "That will be all for now." He says, sending him away with a gesture of his hand. Arriving at the end of the message, he flings it over the table and drops his head in his hands, sighting heavily.

A soft clear of throat makes Robb rise from his thoughts. "Your Grace." Lord Bolton comes. "Your mother asks a word with you."

"Send her in. I already know what she wants." He answers, resigned. "And leave us alone for a moment."

"As you wish, Your Grace." The Lord opens the flap of the tent to let Lady Stark enter and closes it again behind him.

"What does this mean?" His mother immediately asks him, waving the letter she has also received. "Is Ylliria telling the truth? Did you ask her in wedding before the war?"

"Mother, please have a seat. We'll talk this through." And Robb starts to tell her the whole story.

"But, why didn't you say anything when I came back from the Twins? Why didn't you try to talk Lord Frey out of his wedding proposal? Why did you accept?" She calmly asks.

"I was in a hurry to safe father. I was green and young. I didn't want my Bannermen to think that I was weak for a woman. I thought that when the war would finish, I could find a way out."

"Out of your promise? Robb, you don't know Lord Frey. He is a evil and proud man. He will never let you go with it. He gave you men to fight in your host."

"I know!" He suddenly bangs his fists on the table.

"We will explain all this to Ylliria. I'm sure she will understand the difficult position you're in and..." She calmly says.

"I can't, mother." Robb whispers.

"Well, all right, I will talk to her."

"No! I will marry Ylliria. I have to…"

"Have to?"

"And want to… I love her, mother."

"Oh, Robb." She shakes her head.

"And we already… Before I left with the Ban… We already consumed it."

"Out of the marriage vows?" Lady Stark jumps of her seat. "What were you thinking? Now I understand why she asks to stay with the Sisters." She starts to pace around the tent.

"I will marry her and the sooner the better."

"You will not! That will cost you nearly a third of your army. The Freys will leave the Ban and you'll make enemies of them. How will you manage to hold three battlefronts?"

"Mother, I will find a way."

"Maybe there is a way…" She starts. "She's married to Theon, isn't she?"

"NEVER, YOU HEAR ME! I WILL NEVER SEND HER BACK TO THIS TRAITOR!" Robb barks, knocking over his seat. "How could you even think of sending her away? She never done you any harm? What is wrong with you lately?" He turns his back towards her and takes a deep breath. "Mother, this conversation is over. I would like to be alone now." He briskly sends her away.

"Robb?" Catelyn softly comes.

"It's better for you to leave, Mother!"

.


	67. Chapter 67

Chapter 67: The Argument

The next morning, Robb decides to send Lord Bolton to the Sisters of the Health God quarters and asks him to take Ylliria to a little glade near the river outside the encampment.

"My Lady?" Lord Bolton bows. "The King requests for you. Will you please follow me? I brought you a horse."

"Tell the King, I'm very busy right now. And he must have received my letter where I explain everything. The matter is for me closed, My Lord." She turns her back to Bolton and continues with what she was doing.

He grabs her by the arm. "When a King commands, you obey." He briskly says.

"Let go of me! How dare you put a hand on me? Be sure the King will hear from this. I am still a Lady and not one of your common wenches!" She yells, getting rid of his grip.

"What is the matter here, My Lord?" Mother Clarise coming out of her tent, drown by the noise.

"My pardons, Mother." He lightly bows in front of her. "But, the King sends me to fetch the Lady Bennett for a meeting."

"And do you have to brutalize her for that?"

"She refused to follow me, Mother. I have my orders."

"When I met the King, he did not seem to be the tyrant type. You must have misheard his orders, My Lord." She sharply says.

"The King strongly insisted to have a discussion with the Lady Bennett, Mother." He comes in a more courteous way. "I make my pardons to you, My Lady. It was not my intentions to frighten you." He lightly smiles to Ylliria.

"My child, better for you to go see the King. Maybe, he has some other matters to talk with you." Mother Clarise softly tells her.

"But, Mother?" Ylliria pleads.

"You obey me now." She gently orders her, sending her away with a gesture of her hand.

Ylliria unwillingly mounts the horse and follows Lord Bolton. "Where are we going? The King's tent is not that far."

"He'll wait for you outside of the camp."

"Of course, away from prying eyes." She sneers.

"The King did not range over his desires, My Lady." He politely answers.

In a small glade, near a wood, a table and two chairs are set with food and drinks under a canopy. Robb is leaning on a trunk, his gaze on the ground. Ylliria dismounts and slowly approaches while Lord Bolton takes the rains of her horse and returns where he came from.

"Ylliria, I'm happy to see you." He wants to take her in his arms, but she backs away.

"Your Grace." She deeply curtseys, more as a mocking gesture than real politeness.

"That sounds very official." He tries to jest.

"It is what it is. You are a King. I am just using the proper way for a Lady to salute her Grace."

"The discussion will be arduous than I thought." He whispers, pouring two cups of wine and handing one over to her before sitting in front of the table. He makes her a gesture to sit down in front of him.

"Thank you, Your Grace, but I don't think I will stay very long. The matter will be easy to close, I'm sure." She says in an icy tone.

"I'm the King, remember? So, please sit." He's doing his best to keep calm. "So, let us get down to brass tacks. Why didn't you come to speak to me when my mother told you about the Frey arrangement? Why did you flee?"

"I did not flee, Your Grace. I have just requested for a few days to rest after the horrible last months I lived." She sips at her cup. "And you can't address your King like you speak to ordinary mortals. I am certain the King must have more serious matters to treat than my poor little person."

"Don't start your pretentious talk with me, Ylliria. I know you better than that." He leans over the table. "You are just trying to have an argument with me to get an easy way out. But, this time, that won't work." He smiles.

She deeply sighs, not picking up the comment. "The thing that wounds me the most, Your Grace, is that you were continuing to write me in Winterfell, unfolding sweet words of your dying love." She grins.

"You would've preferred that I insensitively swing that sort of news in your face? And then what?" He lowers his gaze. "I couldn't do it, Ylliria. I thought that I would find a way out of it, later when the war ended. Why would I tell you something that I would not let ever happen? I didn't want to break your heart for nothing."

"You didn't want to break my heart, huh?" She continues to speak with a hard tone, not letting herself soften up. "No, you left that dirty job to Theon Greyjoy." She vomits the name. "Was it also your idea for him to marry me? Was that your way of getting out of the problem?"

"Stop it! You know that isn't true!" He raises his voice.

"How can I still believe you, Your Grace? Ihave given myself to you, completely, intimately. What will my life be now without maidenhood or husband?"

"I understand you feel hurt. I should have told you instead of my mother."

"Your mother just confirmed something I already knew."

"So, why did you rejoin the host then?" He says a little more rudely than he wanted.

"Would you have preferred that I stayed with my dear husband… Prince Theon Greyjoy!" She mocks.

"Stop pronouncing the name of that traitor. He is already dead to me. And I will soon cut his head off myself. There, that settles already your wedding affair!" He slowly loses his temper.

"And make me a widow. What a farce! How do you think I'm feeling right now, Your Grace?"

"I had no other choice, by all the Gods. When we were in front of the Twins, we had to cross that bridge. I had to save my father. I didn't think to the side consequences."

"Of course, you hadn't. A bridge and a few thousand Frey men more in your host are better than nothing in a dower!"

"Don't you say that!" He jumps out of his seat.

"Or maybe you thought that I could become your mistress, Your Grace? And make me a bastard or two to stay busy. All the Kings have some around, I heard. It's common doing." She shrugs. "Why not, I'm not that valuable after all. Poor little Lady without a family and a castle." She continues her attack, noticing that Robb is at the edge of cracking up.

"Do you really think it's that easy to be a King? Do you really think I ask for all this? I thought I could count on you, more now than ever. That you would understand once I told you my reasons. That we could fix things together. But no, once again the proud and selfish Lady Bennett mounts on her high horses!" He finally starts to yell.

"I will never forgive you for what you did to me, Your Grace. And I wish you all happiness with your Frey wife. May she give you a hundred ugly children." She spits, before getting away from the table.

"I didn't give you permission to leave, Lady Bennett." He runs after her, grabbing her arm.

"Don't you touch me ever again!" She gets off his grip and starts to rummage in her pocket. "I should have run to the North instead! I should have listened to my heart instead of my reason!"

"What is that supposed to mean?" He comes, abash.

"Here, I have no need for this anymore!" She throws him the Stark ring he gave her at Winterfell. "Try to fit this around the podgy finger of your new betrothed." And she runs away into the woods.

Robb starts to give kicks in the grass, softly cursing. Arriving near the river, he throws the ring as far as he can.

.

"You must have heard stories of my desertion, I have no doubt." Mance smiles at Jon.

"Some say it was for a crown. Others say it's for a woman and a third group believes you have some Wildling blood running through you veins."

"The Wildling blood is the blood of the First-Men, the same blood that flows in the Starks' veins. You're more a Wildling that I will ever be." He softly laughs. "And as for a crown, do you see one on my head?"

"No, but I see a woman." Jon glances at Dalla.

"My lady is not to blame." Mance takes the pregnant woman by the hand. "I met her on my return from your father's castle. I'm only made of flesh and I could not resists her charms... Which makes me no different from the three-quarters of the Watchmen. Guess again, Jon Snow."

the young man shrugs, not having a better idea.

"It was for this." He rises, grabbing his cloak.

"For a cloak?"

"Not every black wool cloak of a Sworn Brother of the Night's Watch, but for this one. During one of our expedition behind the Wall, we brought down a big deer. We were skinning it and cutting it into pieces that we could transport easier, when the smell of blood drew a shadow-cat out of its lair. I could chase it away, but it shredded my cloak into ribbons. Do you see? Here, here and here?" He shows it to Jon. "It butchered my arm and back as well. My brothers feared I might die before they got me back to Maester Mullin at the Shadow Tower, so they carried me to a Wildling village where we knew an old wise-woman did some healing. She cleaned my wounds, sewed me up and fed me potions until I was strong enough to ride again. And she also sewed up my cloak with some scarlet silk from Asshai, pulled from a wreck beached on the Frozen Shore. It was the greatest treasure she had and she gave it to me." He swept the cloak back over his shoulders. "But when I returned to the Shadow Tower, they gave me a new black cloak from the stores, with black breeches, black boots, black doublet and black mail. The men of the Night's Watch dressed in black, Sir Denys Mallister reminded me, as if I had forgotten. My old cloak was just to be thrown away, he said." Mance sighs. "I left the next morning for a place where a kiss was not a crime and a man could wear any cloak he wanted." He goes sitting on the ground again. "And you, Jon Snow?"

"You told me you were at Winterfell, the night my father feasted King Robert."

"Aye, I was."

"Then you saw us all. Prince Joffrey, Prince Tommen, Princess Myrcella, my brothers Robb, Bran and Rickon, my sisters Arya and Sansa, even the Lady Ylliria. You saw them walk the center aisle with every eye upon them and take their seats at the table just below the dais where the King and Queen already were."

"I remember."

"And did you see where I was seated, Mance?" Jon leans forward. "Did you see where they put the bastard?"

Mance Rayder looks at Jon's face for a long moment. "I think it's time we'll get you a new cloak." The King says, holding out his hand to the young man.

.


	68. Chapter 68

Chapter 68: Giants

Ylliria arrives to the Sister's quarters by foot. She had the time along the way to calm down her rage and cry out her pain. She enters the dormitory tent and throws herself onto her bunk, exhausted.

"You've cried?" Eva gentle voice comes from behind her.

"No, I caught something in my eye."

"Ylliria, come on. Are you going to continue this lying game? Do you still not trust us? We are your friends, your sisters, remember?" She sits on the edge of the bunk. "I don't want to come out as a nosy person and don't ask you for all the details, but talking to someone often eases the sorrows. You seem so sad since we joined the host. Something must have happened that you did not expect. You were so confident and strong. Along the way, I admired your courage and took example of it. Let me now help you in return."

"I'm cursed. I don't see it any other way. I'm just cursed. Maybe, it's better for you to stay away from me."

"Don't be silly! What makes you think that?" Eva giggles.

Ylliria briskly rises to sit on the bed. "I gave myself to a man I though loved me and even asked me to marry him. Another one, I hate with all my guts, forcedly wed me instead. And my true love took a stupid oath and is now lost in unknown Northern icy lands. What do you call it, huh?"

"Well, I would say you're lucky." She softly smiles.

"Lucky?"

"Yes, at least you know what love feels like. You lived through all these emotions and even made 'the thing' already." She quotes with her fingers. "What can I say? I never felt my heart beating like a mad drum. Never in my life has a man looked at me with tender eyes. I never felt warm lips over mine or someone gently caressing my back that gives me shivers down my spine. Like all those songs are telling."

"Why did you join the Sisters then, Eva?"

"I had no choice. My parents died from the great fever when I was twelve and I had no other family to take care of me. And I certainly didn't want to become a whore. That is not the way I see love."

"I'm sorry to hear this." Ylliria takes her hands in hers. "But, love is not all joyful and sweet. What I feel now really hurts a lot. It's like being ripped apart and my heart squeezed in iron pliers."

"Yes, but you've found your true love? I remember my grand-mother telling me that it is the best thing that could ever happen in a woman's life. A true love mate, do you imagine that?"

"I found him and lost him soon after." Ylliria sadly comes.

"Why did you let him go? Or why didn't you follow him?"

"I couldn't. And he wouldn't let me." She shrugs.

"Then it's not your true love. A true love is made of two people in my grandmother's own words."

"Eva, it's more complicated than that."

"And you think I'm too stupid or naive to understand."

"No, I never thought that about you." She let herself fall on the bunk. "Oh dear, the King is right, I am a pretentious cunt!"

After a moment of silence, Eva suddenly guffaws. "Pretentious cunt." She comes, holding her ribs. Soon, her hilarity became contagious and Ylliria bursts into laughter with her, repeating the words over and over.

.

Jon has been integrated in Mance Rayder's vanguard that is heading for the west of the Wall.

His new Captain, with the awkward name of Tormund 'giantsbane' Thunderfist, is waking him up. "Rise and shine, boy. Time to march to your new destiny and show us what kind of blood runs through your veins." He gently taps with his boot in Jon's side. "Ready your horse and rejoin me at the top of the little hill. There is something I want you to see."

The young man yawns and stretches his arms wide open.

"Aoutch!" A woman's voice shouts, when he accidentally gives a punch. He turns his head towards the sound and discovers Ygrid lying next to him. "If we want Mance to believe our little lie, we need to sleep next aside." She rises from the pelts they use as blankets completely naked; making Jon briskly changes side.

"Don't tell me you never saw a woman in her name day's clothes?" She rolls her eyes.

"Get dressed. Tormund is waiting for me." He just answers, rising from the other side of the sleeping corner, avoiding looking at her.

It is heavily snowing when Jon exits the tent. He rolls his new cloak, made of sheepskins, firmly around him and goes to find his horse. "Good morning, Ghost. You had a nice hunt?" He pets his Direwolf that comes sniffing near him.

He finds Tormund where he said he would be and stops next to him.

"I have a question for you." Tormund comes out of the blue. "Is it true they cut off your member when you join the Night's Watch?"

"No, of course not! Where did you hear that?" Jon replies, lightly chuckling.

"Don't remember, but I think it must be true. What other reason you would have to refuse Ygrid? It's obvious that the girl wants you."

"We'll do it often enough." He lies, trying to hide his discomfort. "I am still a man of the Night's Watch." He adds for himself.

"Do you Southerners always play with your clothes on?" Tormund burst into laughter, gently tapping his mount's neck. "Do you dislike the girl or something? You could find another one easily. You're a good looking lad."

"No, I don't dislike her or want another one… I think I'm still too young to wed, that's all." He falters.

"Wed?" Tormund continuing to laugh. "Who speaks of wedding? In the south, must a man do so every girl he plays with?"

"She interceded to Mance when Rattleshirt wanted me dead. I would not dishonor her." Jon feels himself turning red.

"You are a free man now and Ygrid is a free woman. What dishonor are you talking about?"

"She might end up with child."

"Aye, I suppose she also hopes so. Would you not like to have a strong son or a sweet little girl?"

"The child would be a bastard."

"And so? Are bastards weaker than other children? Or more sickly or like to fail?"

"No, but…"

"You're bastard-born yourself. Where lays the difference? And if Ygrid doesn't want the child, she knows where to find a hot cup of moon tea. Don't you worry about that."

"I will not father a bastard." Jon stubbornly answers.

"You Southerners are such fools." Tormund shakes his head. "Are you certain they never cut your member off?" He stares at him. "Oh well, you are a free man now, do as you like. But if a man doesn't use his member it grows smaller and smaller, until one day he wants to take a piss and cannot find it in his breeches." He guffaws.

"Not a wonder that the Seven Kingdoms thinks the free folk are scarcely human." Jon silently thinks.

"Ah, here they come." Tormund suddenly comes. "Do those seem big enough for you?" He points at the column that arrives in the valley below them.

In front of Jon, appear some huge animals with long trunks coming out of their head, two white tusks on each side of their mouth and four legs the size of tree boles slowly marching in pairs, mounted by very tall furry men. "What in the Seven Hells is this?" He comes, his eyes wide open.

"Never heard about the Giants and their Mammoths, crow?" The Captain mocks him.

"They are like twelve even maybe fourteen feet tall. And those beasts, they could break through any castle gates without even flinching." He amazes, having trouble to hold still his frightened horse.

Suddenly one of the giants turns his head towards them; he seems to look older than the rest and his mammoth was also larger than any of the others.

"Was that their King?" Jon asks when he has passed by.

"Giants have no Kings. That was Mag Mar Tun Doh Weg, Mag the Mighty. You can kneel to him if you like, he won't mind. Just watch out he don't step on you, though. Giants have bad eyes." Tormund laughs again. "Let's rejoin the rest of our group now. Mance doesn't like when I'm off to long." He pulls on the reins to make his horse turn left.

Jon wheels too and follows Tormund towards the head of the column.

.

Ylliria is preparing a potion for a soldier that complains of bowel problems when Mother Clarise enters the nursing tent. "My child, when you are finish, I would like to have a word with you."

"Sure, Mother. I'm done in a second." She gently answers. "Here, you drink this now." She hands the man a cup and a folded paper. "And on the morrow you put half of this powder in some water and the day after, the other half. It should fix your intestines fine. If your problem still lasts, come back to see me."

"Thank you, My Lady." He softly smiles and leaves the place.

Mother Clarise sits down in the seat that the soldier just left. "I just wanted to know your intentions, Ylliria. Did you thought it through?"

"Yes, Mother. I would like to stay with the Sisters and be useful to at least someone. I considered all the options I have and the safest one is here."

"My child, you are very welcome here, don't hear me wrong. Just, that I can't grant you to take the oath of the Sisters."

"Being a Novice suite me too." Ylliria smiles.

"Have you informed Lady Stark?"

"I've send her another letter."

"Good then. I notice that you're taking it better than I though."

"I cried my eyes out, aye. But, I won't stop breathing over it. Life is not a flowered path all the time, I've learned that now." She shrugs.

"My pardons, Sisters." A man's voice comes from the entrance. "I think this lad has a broken ankle." He carries a soldier to the bench.

"Let me have a look at this." Ylliria kneels in front of the man and delicately pulls out his boot.

"It seems you have everything in hand here, my child. I'll see you at supper." Mother Clarise says before leaving.

"Thank you, Mother." She waves at her. "What is your name, soldier?"

"Terry, My Lady."

"How did you manage this, Terry?" She asks when she discovers the swollen blue colored foot.

"A stupid move, My Lady. I wanted to brag in front of my fellows and jumped from my horse like a Dothraki warrior. The reception wasn't that good, I guess." He softly laughs.

She gently presses and turns and squeezes at the foot, making him wince. "You're lucky. I don't think it's broken, just heavily twisted. I'll put a liniment and a tighten bandage. And if it's possible; do not step on it for a few days."

"Thank you, My Lady. You're very kind."

"That's why we're here, Terry. To take care of all of you." She gently smiles at the soldier.

.


	69. Chapter 69

Chapter 69: Making oneself a name

The snow is falling heavily by the time Tormund and Jon get back with the rest of the column.

"So, did you believe us now, Jon Snow? Did you see the giants on their mammoths?" Ygrid asks.

"Aye! And the crow's in love too now. He means to marry one, he'd said!" Tormund shouts, before Jon could reply.

"He chose a giantess?" She laughs.

"No, a mammoth!" He guffaws before taping his heels on his horse's sides to rejoin Mance Rayder.

"I'm happy that we are with Tormund's vanguard." Ygrid tells Jon. "I had a bellyful of Lord of Bones play-acting." She softly laughs.

"He doesn't trust me, that's all." Jon shrugs.

"Are you to be trusted, Jon Snow?" She stares at him.

"I think I amply proven it to you. Another man would already have taken advantage of your constant requests for playing. You may rest easy, my lady, I will continue to treat you with all respects do." He jests.

"I hate you!" She shouts out, moving away from him.

The Wildlings think that Ygrid is of a great beauty, because of her red-hair. It seems to be rare among the free folk, and those who have it are said to be kissed by fire, which is supposed to be a lucky sign.

While setting camp that day, Jon finds himself staring at the young woman, and the more he looks at her the more she reminds him of Ylliria; both women really looking like sisters. And this confuses him more and more each day. It stirs him when she sings some mindless song in that same tone of voice or sometimes by the cook-fire with the flames reflecting in her hair, she glances at him, just smiling. "Ylliria is hundreds of leagues away and I will probably never see her again. Why am I still thinking about her? Why am I still looking at Ygrid?" He turns his head on the other side. "I am a man of the Night's Watch and I have taken a vow... I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children." He repeats in his head the words he said before the Weirwood, before his father's Gods.

Jon just finishes to cover the ground of their tent with pelts and blankets, when he hears a horse gallop coming near.

"Where is Jon Snow? Mance wants to see him now." Tormund tells Ygrid that was busy to cook their supper.

"What is it Mance wants from him right now?" She asks him.

"He didn't say... Just added 'And be quick about it.'" The Captain shrugs.

Jon crawls out the little tent. "Give me a minute to prepare my horse."

"Can't that wait till at least he filled his tummy?" She tries.

"It's all right, Ygrid." He says before following Tormund.

"She's really acting like your wife. You must have been very good at something to have softened her like that." The Wildling softly laughs when they're following the path away from the camp.

"Did Mance say anything on what he wanted me for?" Jon asks to change the subject.

"No, nothing."

Suddenly, the great white hill that took shape in front of them was unmistakable, the Fist of the First Men. "Had Mormont made his attack?" Jon wonders. In silence, they circle round to the south slope, where the approach is easier. It was there that Jon sees the carcass of a dead horse, half buried in the snow.

"We need to go up. Mance waits on top." Tormund points.

Half way through, he discovers another cadaver of a brown gelding impaled upon the sharpened stakes Mormont had placed inside every entrance. "He was trying to get out, not in. What would make them flee away from safety?" Jon asks himself. There was no sign of the rider's body, though. And further up was worse, Jon had never seen pink snow before. He suddenly wonders if his poor friend Sam was still alive. A few tents were still standing on one side of the camp and there Mance Rayder was waiting.

"You should have spare us this lie." The King-beyond-the-Wall gives Jon a cold look. "Tell me how many they were. And speak the truth this time, Bastard of Winterfell."

Jon's throat dried up in a second. "My Lord… What…"

"I am not your lord!" Mance swings. "And it's obvious here that your brothers died! The question is, how many?"

"There were three hundred of us." The young man manages to say.

"Us?" The King sharply says.

"Them. Three hundred of them… Two hundred from Castle Black and one hundred from the Shadow Tower."

"You should never have lied to me, Jon Snow."

"I… I know that." He pleads.

The Wildling King starts to study his face. "Who had command here?"

"You did not find his body?" Jon dares to asks.

"The next time you answer me with a question, I will give you to my Lord of Bones." Mance promises Jon, stepping closer. "Who led here? I am really losing patience with you, crow."

"Mormont." He whispers.

"That old man? Then who commands at Castle Black?"

"Bowen Marsh."

"If so, our war is practically won! Bowen knows more about counting swords than using them." Mance bursts into laughter.

"I swear, Mormont was in command here." Jon repeats. "This place was high and strong and he made it stronger. He dug pits and planted stakes, laid up food and water. He was ready for…"

"Me?" Mance finishes. "Aye, he was. If I had been fool enough to storm this hill, I might have lost five men for every crow and still counted myself lucky." His mouth grows hard. "But, when the dead are walking, walls and stakes and swords mean nothing. You cannot fight the dead, Jon Snow."

"The White-walkers did this?" Jon looks another time around the abandoned camp.

Mance only smirks for an answer.

.

Mother Clarise has given Ylliria a permanent assignment of the daily visits in the nursing tent. And that suites her greatly, liking the little chats she has with the soldiers or host followers she meets. She starts to know all about the little secrets of the camp, the soldiers' opinions about the war or the latest rumors on the enemies. The men also like her, because, they are surprised that a Lady is doing so much to take care of them, no matter what they're suffering from. Soldiers, peasants, whores, short, young, old, dirty, clean, ranked officer or simple trooper, she's welcoming all with a smile and a gentle word. Her growing reputation quickly comes to the King's ears and he cannot resist to see it with his own eyes. So, like most of his ordinary mornings, Robb marches amongst his men, saying a word here another there, asking questions on their conditions, if the soldiers have all they need. This morning, his steps strangely leads him near the Sisters of the Heath God's quarters. From a distance, he looks at the field-nurses doing their duties and hoping to have a glance at Ylliria. Despite the fact that they didn't talk to each other since the argument, he feels nonetheless very proud of her. He finally spots her, coming out of the nursing tent, wearing the novice's garment of the Order - a green gown with a black apron and a white veil on her head hiding her long auburn hair. She is sharing the mirth of the soldiers around a fire before going to sit on a trunk, drinking a hot tea. He stares at her for a moment, leaning on a fence and finally gathering his courage, decides to go talk to her.

"Lady Bennett." He gently calls.

"Your Grace." She rises from her makeshift chair and curtseys. "But, I'm a Lady no more. Around here, I'm simply Ylliria or Novice Ylliria." She tells him, her gaze on the ground.

"Is that so? But, if I remember my lessons well, a woman of noble birth is always called a Lady... Unless she's a Queen or a Princess. I could find someone who could confirm this, if it pleases you." He says, entering in her game.

"Do you think I'm still considering myself a noble woman?" She frowns.

"Noble you've born, noble you will die, whatever happened in the course of life."

"Will we stay here long, Your Grace?" She decides to change the subject.

"I'm afraid I can't discuss troupes' movements with you."

"Are you taking me for a spy now, Your Grace? Afraid that I might have change side because of my marriage?" She slightly gets irritated again.

"Ylliria, please..." He gently pleads.

She lowers her head to hide the sadness that slowly comes above again. "What?"

"I came around every day, just to have a glance at you." He softly says. "Took me a slice of courage to come and talk to you today, knowing your temper."

"The young wolf, victorious of so many battles against his foes, can't have a chat with a simple woman?"

"Don't start." He calmly says, doing everything not to go in another fight with her. "I came today because I received a list of requests your Mother Superior has written and perhaps, you could help me, if you have time of course... Because, I was about to..."

"Robb?" His mother cuts him, arriving from behind him.

"Mother? What are you doing here?" He suddenly feels like a young boy caught making a drivel.

"Ylliria." Catelyn comes to her and takes her in her arms.

"My Lady."

"Are you well?"

"Yes, My Lady. Thank you for your concerns. If you would please excuse me, but I have a long day ahead." She shyly smiles. "Your Grace." She curtseys and leaves.

Lady Starks looks at Robb following Ylliria on her way to the tent. "I wish that you would be free to follow your heart, my son."

"I know."

"You have inherited your father's responsibilities. I'm afraid they come at cost. You are promised to another."

"I know, mother." He repeats a little bit harshly.

"A debt that must be paid."

"I haven't forgotten." He continues his walk further down his encampment, turning around a last time to look at her.

.


	70. Chapter 70

Chapter 70: With good care, every wound can heal

There was a battle foreseen that day, the Sisters were already preparing everything to cater for the incoming wounded. One of the soldiers had told Ylliria the day before that the King would lead the sally himself against a small contingent of Lannister's men lingering near the Crag.

By dusk, all the available bunks were already occupied, so it's on blankets spread right on the ground that the field-nurses are operating and taking care of the soldiers. Till late in the night, the Sisters and Novices were busy, seldom stopping even to eat or drink.

Ylliria let herself fall on her bunk totally exhausted. "I think I'll be able to sleep for three days in a row." She softly voices to Eva.

"And I think that tomorrow I won't be able to move a single muscle. My arms and legs have turned to rock, weighting a hundred stones each." The young woman reply, still trying to put a smile on her face.

"And I wish I never wake up ever again." Gisela comes, her face half buried in her pillow.

"Well, at least the battle is over. Hopefully, we'll get some easier days coming now." Eva says already half a sleep.

"May the Gods hear your prayer." Ylliria yawns, her eyes slowly closing.

And it seems the Gods were merciful, the next days were quieter and Ylliria took her duties in the nursing tent again.

She was making her inventory when Mother Clarise enters. "My child, a word with you in private please?" She seriously comes.

"Of course, Mother." She puts her book down on the table. "What is the matter? Are you feeling unwell, Mother?" She says when she sees her concerned face.

"It's the King." Mother Clarise softly starts.

"What about him?"

"He was injured during the battle."

"Is it serious? Does he not have a private Maester to take care of him? Why are you…?"

"He asks for you… He has a high fever and refuses to take whatever his Maester is offering him."

Ylliria's gaze falls on the floor, her reason and her heart starting to fight again each other.

"My advise is that you should go, My Child. I can see in your eyes that you still care for him."

"It's... Well... I can't... I..." The young Lady stutters.

"Don't make me order it to you." The Mother frowns, but speaks with a soft tone.

Ylliria heavily sighs and finally nods. "I'll take my health box then."

Mother Clarise smiles as she sees her leaving, the wooden box dangling on her hip.

Marching towards the King's tent feels like a insidious torture, her stomach wringing at each step. She is welcomed by Lord Umber. "Lady Bennett, I am so glad you could come." He gently smiles.

"What happened?"

"During the last battle, the King got an arrow in his shoulder. He pulled it out himself and continued to fight. We saw the blood on his sleeve, but he said it was just a scratch."

"But, that was already four days ago."

"Aye. It's only during this morning's council that we discovered it was more serious than he'd pretend. He felt right from his chair in the middle of a sentence." The Greatjon explains.

She nods and enters the tent. The King lies in his bed, softly moaning. "Your Grace?" She gently comes. "I will have a look at your wound and give you something against the fever."

"Ylliria?" He opens his eyes. "It's nothing, just an arrow in the shoulder. The blow made me fall from my horse. It's more my pride that's hurts and my Kingly bottom..." He smiles, trying to sit down.

"Let me be the judge of that, Your Grace." She smiles back. "And please, stay down." She unties his hard leather doublet and gently lifts it on one side to look at the wound. "I'm afraid I will have to..."

"Cut of my arm?" He jests.

"Ruin your doublet." She smiles again, grabbing from her health box a pair of scissors to cut the sleeve from wrist to shoulder. "The wound has festered. Why didn't you ask you Maester to take care of this?"

"I thought it was just a scratch."

"A scratch? From what I can see, the tip of the arrow is still inside your shoulder. I will have to cut the borders of the gash a little bit wider to get it out without making any more damages to your arm." She reprimands him.

"You're so beautiful when you're serious." He whispers.

"I will give you some milk of the poppy before operating." She continues as she didn't hear him.

"I don't want milk of the poppy. It's making me floating in clouds for hours."

"It will hurt badly, Your Grace. Just haft the potion then. A precaution, as much for me than for you. I would like to avoid that you move when I will make the incision."

"It is asked so nicely, how can I refuse?" He tries to catch her gaze, but she ducks out. "Thank you." He just says while she is preparing everything she needs for the operation.

"For what?" She hands him a dose of drug.

"To have come to take care of me."

"It's my duty and you've asked for me, Your Grace."

"You don't have to call me Your Grace when there's nobody around, you know." He suddenly hisses when she pours red vinegar on the gash to clean it.

"Sorry, I thought the milk of the poppy would already stark to work." Normally, she would have look in the patient's eyes to see if he is drugged or not, but with him she has all the trouble in the world to do so. "I'll wait for a moment." She takes the basin from the side table and pours some fresh water in it. She notices that her hands are shaking a little bit. "Grab yourself together! And see him as any other man you take care off." She silently orders herself, taking a fresh cloth from the pile next to the basin and dipping it in the water. She comes back near the King's bed and gently wipes the sweat from his face with the wet tissue. He seems to be knocked out enough for her to start the operation.

The King wakes up two hours later, a clean bandage around his shoulder. He looks around and spots Ylliria sitting on the bench whispering with Lord Umber. "Am I gonna live?" He softly asks with a smile.

"Yes, Your Grace. I was just informing Lord Umber how to administer you a potion against the fever and your Maester will have to change the plaster and the bandage every day. I will recommend you to stay abed at least till the fever is gone. That would also prevent the gash to reopen and bleed." She rises from her seat, grabbing her wooden box. "Your Grace. My Lord." Ylliria curtseys.

"You're not staying?" Robb asks.

"I leave you in good hands and I'm sure your Maester will take good care of you, Your Grace." Her gaze unwillingly meeting his. "I can't... I have other... If you'll please excuse me..." She stutters, nearly running away from the tent.

.

Mance Rayder's Host, with his thousands of followers, is moving too slow. And the last heavy snowfalls didn't help them to go any faster. Despite all his efforts, the Wildlings are remaining hopelessly undisciplined and that makes them vulnerable.

But now that the King-beyond-the-wall presumes that Lord Commander Mormont is running back to Castle Black, he ready needs to speed up his plan. That evening, he summons Jon and Ygrid in his tent.

"On the Morrow, you'll follow Jarl. He is in charge of a good hundred picked Thenns and raiders. And Styr, my Magnar will lead his men and the whole of you." Mance directly explains. "And by 'you', I mean both." He points at Ygrid. "Far from me the idea to separate two hearts that beat as one." He guffaws.

"Where are we going?" Jon asks.

"Over the Wall, of course! It's past time you prove your faith with something more than words, Jon Snow."

"What will I do with a crow?" The Magnar comes, not pleased by the idea.

"He knows the Watch and he knows the Wall, Styr. And he knows Castle Black better than any raider ever could. You'll find a use for him or you're a fool." The King dryly replies before turning to Rattleshirt. "My Lord of Bones, keep the column moving at all costs. If we reach the Wall before Mormont has the time to settle his men, we might still have a chance of victory."

"You heard the King, we ride at daybreak. Bring all the food you can because there won't be any time for hunting." The Magnar orders Jon and Ygrid before bristly sending them away.

"I'll have to see Ghost. Can you start to prepare the things we need on your own?" Jon asks the young girl.

"Only if you find another place for your wolf to sleep tonight." She giggles.

He rolls his eyes and leaves for the little hill where his Direwolf had set post.

"Ghost, to me." He quietly calls when he approaches him. "On the morrow we go over." He kneels in front of the animal. "There are no steps here or cage to lift you. There is no way for me to get you to the other side. So, we have to part. Do you understand?"

The Direwolf muzzles at Jon's neck, silent as usual.

"Listen! You can't come with me." He continues, cupping the wolf's head in his hands and looking deep into his red eyes. "I want you to go to Castle Black. Do you understand? Castle Black. Can you find it? It's the way home? You remember that big black thing we lived in for a while? Just follow the ice east, into the sun and you'll find it." He points in that direction. "They will recognize you and maybe they'll understand I send you to warn them." He thought first writing a note for Ghost to carry, but he had no ink, no parchment, not even a writing quill, and the risk that it could be discovered was too high. "I will meet you again at Castle Black, but you have to get there by yourself. You will have to hunt alone for a time."

The Direwolf suddenly twists free of Jon's grasp; his ears pricked up and starts to run away down the hill, vanishing among the trees.

"Off to Castle Black? Or off after a hunt?" Jon wonders, wishing he knew.

.


	71. Chapter 71

Chapter 71: One step after another

Jon is nearly happy to see the Wall again in this sunless afternoon. It felt like home somewhere, even if he was on the wrong side of it for now. It had stopped snowing for the last two days and Styr the Magnar and his riders, Jarl and his Thenns, Ygrid and himself arrived a little ahead of schedule at the spot where they have plan to climb over. The hilly ground around makes Jon think they must be somewhere between Shadow Tower and Castle Black.

The Magnar orders his group to set camp behind some pine trees; last covered shield ahead of the open strip of land in front of the Wall.

Just before nightfall, Jon stares at the gigantic man-made ice structure. "Beyond this Wall lays the Seven Kingdoms and everything I've sworn to protect. I can't let the Wildlings breach it, threaten Winterfell and the North. Ylliria, Bran, Rickon, Maester Luwin, Sir Rodrik, Old Nan, Mikken at the forge, Will the mason, Belinda in the Kitchens… Everyone I ever knew, everyone I ever loved is counting on the Sworn Brothers to protect them. But, can I still consider myself as one of them?" He thinks melancholically. "The Wall is a hundred leagues long and the Watch does not have men enough to fulfill their duty. There might not be a brother within forty miles of here. How could he warn anyone of what will happen right here on the morrow? Did Ghost find his way back to Castle Black?" He questions himself, a sullen expression over his face. He resigns himself to go back to his little tent, which means to resists against Ygrid assaults again.

Since they left Mance's Host, Jon could manage to avoid her insistent advances by taking the night-shifts to guard the camp, but tonight the Magnar had ordered him to have a good night sleep before the climbing. Mance Rayder's words 'Two hearts that beat as one.' sound bitter in his head. He never felt so confused in his entire life. "I can't push her away forever. If I refuse her once again, she will definitively know that I'm not a turncloak and that I'm just playing a part. I need to stay alive as long as possible, learn as much as I can from Mance's plans and tactics, before going back to Castle Black and my brothers. I have no other choice. And might be I like to play." He tells himself just before entering the tent.

.

Mother Clarise is now convinced that Ylliria is still in love with Robb and that the King still cares about her too. No matter that both claim the contrary or continuously play their little masquerade in front of everybody, each staying in the role of their so called new positions; her, as a field-nurse and him, as King of the North. It is plain obvious that those two belong together. She made already several attempts to discuss this with Ylliria, but all she could get out of the young Lady were shallow replies, pure denials or lousy excuses. She decides thus to force destiny and shakes things up a little bit. And most of all, stopping Ylliria with her pretends to join the order and take the Sisters' Sacred oath.

In her younger years, she would have loved to have someone helping her out when her father refused to let her marry Sir Keenan's youngest son Alan and had preferred to betroth her to that crumbly Lord Flint instead, only because that House was better placed in the Lording hierarchy. Alan will probably be the only man she'll ever love and she knows how much it can hurt. She does not want Ylliria to live through the same torments that she had suffered from. She loves her like her own daughter now and if she can be of any help to make her happy, she will do all what needs to be done, as her real mother would do.

So, since the King's battle injury on his shoulder, she has set up accidental meetings between them. Any pretext was good to send Ylliria where the King was. And her plan seems to work, because lately she has notice the King comes regularly visiting the nursing tent while making his morning walks around the encampment. She loves to sneak a look at them. And the way Robb is looking at Ylliria and the shy smiles she offers him back just gives confirmation to the old Sister that she is doing the right thing. The little bonus on top is that it makes her feel like she's twenty again.

The final stroke of her sweet plan came by itself one morning. Their healing supplies stocks have drastically dropped during the last two offensive in the west. Some items are even totally missing from their pharmacy. Since the King had promise her that she will be served when asked and also heard from a captain that the King has the intention to parley with Lord Westerling for a peaceful surrender of The Crag, Mother Clarise decides to send Ylliria to the King with her list. "Good afternoon, Ylliria." She gently says, as the young Lady enters her tent.

"Mother, you had need for me?"

"Have a seat. I have written a long list of supplies. Could you have a look at it and tell me if we miss anything else?"

"Of course." She accepts the paper and starts to carefully go through it.

"How are things going, my child?" The Mother subtly asks her.

"Oh, fine. It was so what quieter those last days. The little bowels epidemic we had is under control now. The last man left this morning. Hopefully, we are through with it." Ylliria seriously explains.

"Good work."

"Thank you. And we have still the young pregnant girl. The labor still didn't start. Sister Petronilla gave her a potion this morning to induce it. At least, the baby is in the right position, it won't be a breech delivery." She continues her report. "Your list is perfect, Mother." She lays it down on the desk in front of her.

"I have a favor to ask of you, my sweet child." Mother Clarise softly smiles. "Could you bring this list to the King on my behalf? I'd like that he has it before he leaves for the Crag."

"But… Mother…" Ylliria lightly protests.

"I thought you and the King had iron out your problems. I saw you often discussing together lately." The Mother innocently comes.

"Aye, but… The baby might be coming any time now and I would like to be there. That would only be my second delivery." Mother Clarise tilts her head to the side and gazes at her, lightly frowning. When Ylliria heavily sighs, she knows she has won the day.

.

Jon silently wishes that Ygrid might be already asleep, but as soon as he slips beneath the skins, he feels her naked body crawling against his. "You have still your clothes on." She harshly comes.

"I'm cold." He complains.

"Well, let me warm you up and I know how to do so." She purrs, searching for his lips while her fingers were undoing the laces of his breeches.

"Control yourself." He says for himself, while his entire body unexpectedly reacted at her touch. Her tongue eagerly searches for his in his mouth, making his manhood stiffening all at once. "It's just for this once, to prove her I'd abandoned my vows." One of his hands suddenly finds her breast and instantly he lightly pinches and strokes it. "Halfhand ordered me to go whatever was needed to blend in." His other hand cupping her well-shaped buttock and starting to press it against his body. She softly moans, slowly rubbing her lucky-red triangle over his crotch. "We shouldn't." A little voice inside of him pleads just before his brain disconnects; his last barriers collapsing one by one at each touch, at each caress. Her hand slips inside his small-clothes to bring his hard member out. She gently bites his neck and he delightfully muzzles hers, burying his nose in her thick red hair and softly tumbling her on her back.

"Isn't that good?" She whispers as she finally guides him inside her. She was sopping wet down there, but he did not care, not anymore. His vows, her maidenhood or even the world around them, none of it matters. Only counts the heat of her, her mouth on his, his body over hers, his cock inside of her moist den. "Isn't that sweet?" She softly comes again. He answers with a growl, starting to raise his pace. "Not so fast, Jon Snow… Oh, slow… Yes, like that…" She whimpers as he does as told. "There now… Continue like this..." Her breath starting to accelerate.

"Don't think of her! It's not right!... It's not right!..." Jon suddenly being confused.

"No... Don't slow down now." She pleads.

He tries to focus again, but everything in his brain is a total mess, like after a heavy storm. "I won't break." He winces.

"There it is… Now, yes…" Ygrid's voice slowly rises. "You know nothing, Jon Snow… Oh… Harder now… Harder… Yessssssss!" She finally yells as the pleasure takes her before Jon lets out of soft grunt, carried away by his own climax.

"A part… I only played a part." He convinces himself again, taking back his breath and getting off of her. "I had to do it once, to make her trust me." He feels her sliding near him again. "It will never happen again. I'm still a man of the Night's Watch and a son of Eddard Stark. I've done what needs to be done, proved what needed to be proven." He firmly decides before falling asleep, an arm around Ygrid's shoulders.

But, it happened twice more that night and once again in the morning, before they hear the gathering horns blasting.

.

Ylliria slowly marches towards the King tent. Lord Bolton is discussing with Robb, so she waits till he dismisses his Lord. "I'll just need a minute of your time, Your Grace?" She makes it sound as official as she can manage.

Robb pretends to look for some papers, trying to do like he is very busy.

"Mother Clarise sends me with a list of supplies that we run out off. Some of them can easily been replaced, like Egg yolk, turpentine and oil of roses..."

"But some are not." He cuts her, finally raising his head.

She instantly drops her gaze to the paper she's holding, her hands softly shaking. "Hum... We need silk for stitching, fennel against fevers..."

Robb slowly approaches her.

"Willow bark… And most important, milk of the poppy." Her voice lowers at each step he makes towards her. "Ahum... It is difficult to amputate without that drug... As you know... And inflicts unnecessary pain to the..." She stops, her eyes riveted on the floor. "Wounded soldier..." She can feel his stare, he is just a few inches away from her now.

"I know where to find all those supplies you need, Ylliria." He says with a husky voice.

"It's not for me. It's for the wounded, Your Grace." She stupidly babbles.

"I'm going to The Crag to negotiate a peaceful surrender with Lord Westerling. And I heard they have a good Maester at the castle. He must probably have everything that is on your list."

She briskly hands him the paper. "Mother Clarise will be highly grateful to Your Grace."

"But, there is one condition, though." He smiles. "I'll need you to come with me."

"I don't think I would be allowed to take leave, Your Grace. Mother Clarise would probably not permit it." She tries.

"You have a better understanding on what those products are and you would be more capable to explain everything to the Maester than me." He makes a step aside, his shoulder softly brushing against hers when he passes by. "I will write a note to Mother Clarise. I'm sure she will grant your leave. She can't refuse me anything, I think she likes me." He winks. "And don't let anyone say that the King of the North is not making a point of honor for that all his wounded and sick are treated the best way possible." He exits the tent, a large smile over his face.

Ylliria turns her head around to see him going amongst his men. "Was it not possible for you to act more stupidly than that? You sounded like a twelve year old! You're a coward, girl!" She gives herself an earful.

.


	72. Chapter 72

Chapter 72: Arrival at The Crag

One of the Thenns suddenly enters Jon and Ygrid's tent. "Styr wants. You come." He manages to say in the common tongue, pointing his spear on Jon's chest.

The Magnar questioning starts as soon as the young man arrives near him. "Jarl has warned me of crows patrolling on top of the Wall. Tell me all you know about these patrols."

"There are four men in each patrol, two rangers and two builders." Jon explains. "The builders are supposed to watch for cracks, melting and other structural problems, while the rangers look for signs of foes."

"They always walk on top?"

"No. One patrol in four follows the base, to search for cracks in the foundation ice or signs of tunneling."

"How often do these patrols go out?"

"It changes." Jon shrugs. "Lord Commander Mormont likes to vary the number of patrols and the days of their departure, to make it more difficult for anyone to know their comings and goings. And sometimes he even sends a larger force to one of the abandoned castles for a fortnight."

"Which castles along the Wall are permanently manned?"

"Eastwatch, Castle Black and the Shadow Tower, as far as I know. But, I can't say what Bowen Marsh and Sir Denys might have done since I left."

"How many crows per Castle?"

"Five hundred at Castle Black, two hundred at Shadow Tower and perhaps three hundred at Eastwatch." Jon has subtly added three hundred men to the count.

"Good. Don't go too far; I might need you for further questions." The Magnar dismisses him with a gesture of his hand.

Soon after, Jon sees Styr sending a dozen men riding to the west and a dozen more to the east, ordering them to climb the highest hills they could find and watch for any sign of rangers in the woods or riders on the Wall. The Thenns carry war horns with them to give immediate warning, should the Watch be sighted.

Jon knows it won't be long anymore before they will climb over the Wall to the other side and he starts to fear this more than anything else.

.

The King had provided Ylliria with a beautiful dark brown gelding to ride next to him to the Crag. A group of ten guards accompany them to watch over their security. The journey to reach the Castle will take about three hours across small woods and country roads.

"You are not very talkative today, Ylliria." He comes when they were already half the road down.

"I have not much to tell you, Your Grace. You know I'm not fond of silly chatter."

"Tell me about your work with the Sisters? I heard a lot of nice things about you coming from my men. They seem to like you very much."

"Really?" She marvels. "Maester Luwin often told me that I was good at taking care of people. Did you know he gave me two silver rings?"

Robb softly smiles. "I'm not surprised to hear that."

"I think I finally found my real purpose in life. And I'm about to ask Mother Clarise to accept my vows and become a Sister of the Health God." Ylliria calmly states.

The King's horse suddenly shies aside, when Robb unexpectedly pulls at the reins at what she said. "Are you sure?" He asks a sad tone in his voice.

"I thought about it for long weeks and yes, I think I'm now ready for it."

"Well, I don't know what to think about that." He somberly answers, pushing his mount to go a little bit faster.

.

The height all along the Wall is uneven, between seven hundred and eight hundred feet. Surprisingly, to make his assault, Jarl has set his heart on a section that was one of the highest of all. But, a good third of that was earth and stone rather than ice and so easier to ascend than the sheer vertical face that the Wall mostly presents.

He suddenly calls out eleven men of his best climbers, all young, lean and hard and orders them to make ready. They wind up thick coils of hempen rope around one shoulder and down across their chests; lace on supple leather boots with spikes coming out from the toes, iron or bronze for some, jagged bone for others; and buckle a small stone-headed hammer and a leather bag of stakes around their hips. The eleven climbers sort themselves into three teams of four, Jarl himself making the twelfth man and starts to run for the trees on the foot of the Wall. The three teams are spaced a good twenty yards apart, with Jarl's four in the center. It took a long time before the first climber emerges above the treetops.

"There they are!" Ygrid shouts out as she sees Jarl at the lead, starting to attempt the icy cliff, hacking out a handhold with his ax and a rope around his waist ties him to the second man in line. Step by step, Jarl and his three men move higher, kicking out toeholds with their spiked boots when there are no natural ones and drive iron stakes into the Wall.

The sun is slowly rising in the horizon and the three teams are just on a third of their climbing.

"Their legs must be numb after four hours non-stop climbing." Jon softly tells Ygrid. "How long can they keep on like that?"

"They are the strongest men Jarl has chosen. They will get on top, you'll see." The young woman says.

"Too slow." The Magnar complains. "Are they forgetting about the crow patrols? They should climb faster, before we get discovered." Styr is pacing around like a lion in a cage, sometimes stopping just to listen if no distant moan of a war horns could be heard. But, the horns stay silent, no sign of the Night's Watch at Jon's despair.

The sun was slowly sinking into the West, when the climbers finally reach the top. Not losing any more time, they unwind the long hemp ropes they brought with them, tiding them all together and tossing down one end. Jon watches the raiders, which Jarl had left below; carrying a huge solid ladder made of weaved hemp and tying it to the rope. The men above are pulling it up to the top and lowering the rope again to lift a second one, then a third. A total of five ladders were assembled and leaned against the ice.

The Magnar was ordering all to stay in line and at each of his whistle; a man was climbing the ladder.

"I hate this Wall." Ygrid said mid-way in a low angry voice. "Can you feel how cold it is?"

"I'm just behind you. I'll catch you if you fall." Jon gently says, trying to calm her down.

"If I fall, we both die… You know nothing, Jon Snow." She grumbles.

It was near midnight before Jon and Ygrid finally reach the top.

_._

Lord Westerling is waiting in his courtyard when the King of the North makes is entrance.

"Your Grace." He bows when Robb dismount his horse. "Let me please bid you welcome to the Crag."

"My Lord, I really hope we'll find a fine settlement that will guarantee peace for our people." The King gently says, accepting the man's handshake. "May I present you the Lady Ylliria Bennett of Garrymount. She accompanies me to see your Maester. She is here on behave of our Sisters of the Health God community and they are lacking some supply that we hope you will be able to deliver."

The Lord respectfully bows in front of the young woman. "I'm sure we have all what you need, My Lady. I have prepared some refreshments and little food in our main hall where my family is waiting to meet you." He turns to the King again. "If you will please follow me."

A huge fire was burning in the Grand Hall's hearth, a comfortable warms wrapping them when they enter. "This is my Lady wife Sybell and my children." The Lord says. "Raynald, my oldest son. Jeyne, my first daughter. This is Rollam and finally Elenya." He points at each of them when they all bow and curtseys in front of Robb. "My Lady." He turns to his wife. "Could you please kindly take care of the Lady Bennett while I will discuss with his Grace?"

"Of course. My Lady, would you like to have something to drink or to eat?" Sybell takes her by the arm and leads her at the other side of the long table.

"Something to drink will be most welcome." Ylliria gently comes.

"We have a nice fresh red wine from the Arbor. Sweet and light." She just give a look at one of her maids that directly pours two cups. "May I ask you the purpose of your visit with the King?"

"I am representing the Sisters of the Health God's Order. We are following the Host to take care of the wounded and the sick. And we are starting to lack some items. His Grace told me you had a Maester that might help me to find those supplies." She succinctly explains.

"Oh, I see! I will call our Maester, so you will be able to make your requests."

"I brought a list. This will certainly be easier for him to gather what you will be able to furnish."

"Excellent!" Lady Sybell joyfully shouts out. "We have plan a little feast tonight to celebrate your visit. We don't have much of those lately, with the war and all." She continues in a more conspiring tone.

"That is very kind of you. But, I fear I did not bring a decent gown for such occasion."

"Don't you worry about that, My Dear, your presence is all I need. I will be delighted to have some women chatter for once." She lightly laughs. "But, I can't hold it anymore. May I ask you something?"

"Of course, My Lady."

"What is a Lady doing with the Sisters of the Health God?"

"That is a long story and I do not want to bother you will all this." Ylliria lowers her gaze in the bottom of her cup.

"You know what? Let me tell you something first." Sybell puts a hand over hers. "I am not one of those Southern Ladies that are all high on their toes, denigrating each other or full of principles in front of you and making worse in the darkness of their bedrooms, if you see what I mean." She whispers, leaning close to Ylliria. "I prefer how life looks like in the countryside and I talk equally to my husband than to my groom or to my daughters than to my kitchen-wenches."

When Ylliria softly laughs on that comment, the King turns his head towards the Ladies. The way he looks at Ylliria, didn't escape to Lady Westerling's attention. "Interesting." She says for herself.

.


	73. Chapter 73

Chapter 73: To cut loose

The Wildlings have descend the South face of the Wall at a place called Greyguard, an abandoned towerhouse for more than two hundred years. Jon thanks the Gods as soon as his feet touched the ground again, even if going down was a good deal easier than climb up that uncertain ladder structure.

"Did some King build this, all of stone like that?" Ygrid asks him, looking all around her.

"No, just the men who used to live here."

"What happened to them?"

"They died or most probably went away."

"They were fools to leave such a castle." Ygrid says.

"It's no castle, just a towerhouse. Winterfell has towers three times the size of that."

"You're making that up." She giggles. "Don't take me for a fool, Jon Snow. How could men build so high? There are no giants this side of the Wall."

"You never saw any stone castle before, huh?" He gently asks.

She nods a timid 'no', looking at the other Wildlings to be sure they were not listening.

"Men can build a lot higher than this. In Oldtown, there's a tower taller than the Wall. But, I never saw it with my own eyes, I just heard the story." He explains in a lower voice.

From Greyguard, Styr leads his group deep into the land, to avoid the Watch's regular patrols. At each step, Jon was hoping to fall on one of them, but no sign of Brothers from the whole journey. Through cold hills and windy plains they are marching, unwatched and unseen. Jon was looking for any opportunity to flee, but there again the chances were thin as paper. Despite that he walks with them, shares their bread and even Ygrid's blankets, the Wildlings still don't trust him. Day and night, the Thenns are watching him, looking for any signs of betrayal. He could not get away, and soon it will be too late to do so.

And each day, the same ritual, Magnar summons Jon and asks him sharp questions about Castle Black, its garrison and defenses. Jon lies where he dares, feigns ignorance a few times. But the Wildlings already know a lot about the Night's Watch and he knows that one of those days they will get rid of him. So, he tries to disclose little by little the left-over information on the reality of Castle Black. It has no real defenses, but for the Wall itself. There are no wooden palisades or ditches dug around it. The castle is no more than a group of towers and keeps, two-thirds falling into ruin. And as for the garrison, Mormont had taken two hundred on his last ranging and Jon didn't know how many of them have return. Perhaps four hundred remain at the castle, but most of those were builders or stewards, not rangers. Jon was mentally counting who could still be at Castle Black. "Maester Aemon and his half-blind steward Clydas, one-armed Donal Noye, drunken Septon Cellador, Deaf Dick Follard, Three-Finger Hobb the cook, old Sir Wynton Stout, Harlder, Toad, Pyp, Albett and the rest of the boys who he trained with. In command, that should be red-faced Bowen Marsh and plump Lord Steward the Castellan. Not much of an army. And if the Magnar takes the castle unawares, it will be a red slaughter." He sighs. "I have to warn them, at all cost." He suddenly wonders where Ghost could be. "Was he back at Castle Black as I asked him? Is he running with some wolf-pack in the woods?" Those last days, he had no sense of his Direwolf, not even in his dreams like he used to. It makes him feel as a part of him has been cut off. Even with Ygrid sleeping beside him and for the first time in his life, he really feels alone. And he did not want to die alone.

_._

After having forwarded Ylliria's list of supplies to the castle Maester, Lady Westerling invites the young Lady to follow her to her personal quarters. "I'm certain that a warm bath and an hour rest will do you the greatest good before the tonight's feast." Sybell says with a huge smile on her face.

"My Lady, it's very kind of you." Ylliria politely answers.

"Since this castle is big enough for at least two or three other families, I took a whole wing for my apartments. I restored four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a recreation room where you can play music or any other game you want and a small library." She explains when they walk through the hallway. "The Westerlings might not be very rich anymore, but I have tons of creative ideas and nothing better to do." The Lady starts to laugh.

Ylliria must have had an odd look, because Lady Sybell suddenly stops and starts to stare at her. "Oh come on, don't look so stiff, sweet young Lady." She grabs her arms and gently shakes her. "Life is short and amusements don't come around so often. Enjoy the moment."

"You have to pardon me, My Lady. Those last months were not very cheerful and maybe I forgot what it was to be carefree." Ylliria apologizes.

"I saw that the minute you entered in the hall. I told myself, Sybell, this young woman is brokenhearted and it's fresh."

"Are you able to read minds? Are you a magician?" The young woman wonders.

"My name is not Sybell for nothing. Hum... Let's call it a hunch." The older Lady winks, making Ylliria burst out.

In the middle of the hallway, the Lady opens a door and lets the young woman enter first. "This will be your bedroom for the night, dear."

The room is furnished with a huge wooden bed, covered with beige linens and dark brown pelts that must probably be from a bear and a thick feather mattress; two trunks on one side of a wall; a little chair with an embroidered cushion to sit; a metal mirror rests on a little table filled with pots, brushes, laces, hair grips and ribbons in different colors and all the walls were covered with the largest tapestries she ever saw. A fire in the hearth has already warmed the whole room and a bathtub had been prepared in front of it.

"This is the most beautiful room I ever saw in my entire life." Ylliria softly says.

"Just made it with bits and pieces from here and there and a few good craftsmen to help me." Sybell shrugs.

"Are you sure this will be my room for the night?" She smiles.

The Lady makes a gesture of her hand for Ylliria to follow her again. A few steps further, she opens another door. "This is my bedroom." She proudly comes. It was decorated with the same kind of furniture, but the tissues were all in red and orange shades. "The only difference with the other one is that I have my own private bathroom. A little fantasy to brag about, hoping that one day the Ladies in King's Landing would hear about it and be eaten up with jealousy!" She opens the smaller door on the side, letting Ylliria look around it. There are several shelves filled with beauty products, soaps from different colors and huge piles of towels. In the center, a long bathtub has pride of place.

When Ylliria comes back in the bedroom, Lady Sybell sits on her bed. She gently taps on the mattress, silently asking to sit next to her. "And now that I feel you are a little more comfortable, you will tell Lady Sybell all your misfortunes."

"Oh, My Lady, I don't know. I really don't want to bother you will all this."

"Let's play a little game." She smirks. "I will start the story and you'll stop me only if I'm taking a wrong turn."

"All right. Now, you have roused my curiosity." Ylliria smiles.

"Once upon a time." Sybell starts, making the young Lady chuckle. "A beautiful young woman falls in love with a handsome young Lord. The feeling seems mutual, but odd circumstances prevent them to let their love flowering in the open." She looks at Ylliria that stays silent. "Could there be another woman in the game? Would the young Lord have dumped the beautiful young Lady for someone more suitable?"

"Stop!" Ylliria calls. "He didn't dump me. He was forced to make another choice."

"Could be that the father was not agree with their emerging love?"

"His father never had the chance to know about it. The young Lord was just about to ask permission to marry me when…" Ylliria's voice fades away, turning her head away.

Sybell gently cups her chin with one hand. "The young man we are talking about is the King of the North, isn't it?"

Ylliria softly nods and suddenly raises her gaze. "Please don't tell anyone or don't say anything to him. I should not have talk about it."

"You had not much to tell me, Sweetling. It is so obvious. I saw the way he was looking at you when he presented you to us and when we were both talking at the table. And do you want to know what I'm thinking?"

She nods again.

"I think his feelings for you are still strong. But, he is a man grown and a King too now. He has great responsibilities to hold and still so young to face them. The war, his men, the loss of his father… I know that my husband pledge fealty to King Robert and I suppose to the new King Joffrey. But, times have changed and… Well, don't think of me as your enemy, but as your friend. At my age, I know what it is to be a young woman of noble blood. I was lucky to marry a man that I knew before and where I was in love with."

"Really? Such things do exist?" Ylliria comes aback. "Lady Stark told me that her father had chosen her husband and the one for her sister too. Her own daughter Sansa was betrothed to Prince Joffrey by an understanding between King Robert and Lord Stark when he became the Hand."

"I know and it's common rule in the nobility, as you may certainly know. But, who did your father choose for you?"

"My parents died when I was a little girl. Lord and Lady Stark took care of me. But, Lord Stark is no more…"

"So, I suppose this responsibility lies with Lord's Stark's heir now." Lady Sybell smiles with a knowing look.

"There is another thing that you don't know yet. Theon Greyjoy took Winterfell in the name of his father… King Balon of the Iron-Islands now… And he forced me to marry him."

"Did he bed you?"

"No… I ran away the same night, after the… So called feast." Ylliria scoffs.

"Good. Easy to annul." She wipes the comment away with her hand.

"That is what everybody is telling me, but what if the King does not want to annul it."

"What makes you think that he won't?"

"Because, so he can easy get rid of his vows he made to me and marry the Frey daughter."

"And does he love the Frey daughter?"

"He still has to choose one of them." She shrugs.

Those last words makes Lady Sybell burst into laughter.

"What makes that so funny?" Ylliria pouts.

"It's you who make me laugh… Sweetling, everything you are telling me here makes me believe that you did not discuss this with him. You just made assumptions for him and have decide that the case was lost before even played." The Lady continues to laugh.

"Oh right, so you suggest me to grab the King of the North by the sleeve, with my fists on my sides and blandly say: You will marry me right now and be quick about it!" Ylliria flings, rising from the bed to suit the action to the word.

"That is your way of doing it. Let me give you another way to play this and be certain of the end result." She winks.

.


	74. Chapter 74

Chapter 74: A master plan

The sun was sinking into the west when the Wildlings set camp in an abandoned village in the strip of land called the Brandon's Gift. A heavy storm was upon them, they could see the dark clouds coming from afar carried by strong winds. Jon and Ygrid have sheltered their skin-made tent under the leftover roof of a barn.

"Jon Snow!" One of the Thenns shouts at them. "Magnar wants." Jon follows him without a word. He was used to those calls by now.

After this daily round of questions, the Magnar's attitude suddenly changes, his face showing an evil grin. He barks something in the Old Tongue and the Thenns around slowly encircling the young man. "Styr has no use for me anymore. He just asks his men to kill me." He says for himself, putting a hand on the handle of his longsword.

A sudden flash of lightning makes Jon aware of a gray shadow in the middle of them. He unsheathes Longclaw ready to stab whatever it is when he sees a first Wildling falling next to him, blood pouring out of this open throat and another one a split of a second later. In the dark of night, he hears men running, cursing and shouts of pain.

Another flash lights up the scene, a raider named Big Boil stumbles backward and knocks down three men behind him. "Ghost? Should he have gone over the Wall?" Jon thinks for one mad instant. The lightning turns the night to day again and he sees the Direwolf standing on another man's chest, blood running from his jaws. "No, this one is Grey." He whispers when behind him, a horse is neighing and stomping his hooves heavily on the floor from fear. He knows that he would never get a better chance to get away. With his sword still in hand, he runs towards the mare, cutting through a first Thenn, shoving another aside and slashing a third. Through the madness, he hears someone calling his name, but whether it was Ygrid or Styr, he didn't want to know. He grabs the horse's mane and jumps on its back. The terrorized animal rears up, one of his hoofs hitting another Wildling in the temple, but the young man manages to steady him and sets him off to a gallop.

.

Lady Sybell rises from the bed and opens one of the trunks scattered around her bedroom. She grabs a gown from it, shakes it out a little bit and puts it down next to Ylliria. It is made of ivory silk and laces, superimposed with a floral pattern.

"It's so beautiful." Ylliria whispers, delicately trailing her hand along the fabric.

"And too small for me now." The Lady smiles. "You told me that you didn't bring any decent gown for the feast tonight, right?"

"Aye, but… My Lady this is too much… I don't know if I can... Really." She babbles.

"Hear out my master plan and only after you'll take any decision you want."

"You have a master plan? By all the Gods, a master plan for what?" Ylliria laughs.

"It's a sweet master plan." Lady Sybell giggles. "You are going to wear this nice little gown. My maid will do your hair nice and lovely. You'll put some pink on your cheeks and some red on your lips. Once you're ready, I will call my son Raynald and he will play your devoted servant for the evening. Don't worry; he is a very nice and polite fellow and madly in love with one of Lord's Blackwood nephews."

"Excuse me?" The young Lady comes, hesitating to laugh on that.

"Aye, I know." She rolls her eyes on the ceiling. "But, his father doesn't, so hush-hush on that. He is still young and he will probably put his mind on a woman one day or another. It's just a matter of time." She winks. "At the feast, I will place you next to each other at the long table and see that the King sits across, so he could see your doings. Raynald will entertain you during the supper. He is a very funny lad, always having a great story to tell that makes you laugh to tears. After that, we will have some musicians and singers, so dancing will be part of it. Oh, I didn't dance for a long time." Lady Sybell grabs the gown from the bed as dance partner and starts to make some steps to Ylliria's amusement. "I'll guarantee you the King's face will be very… Hum… How can I put this?... Talkative." She suddenly stops to face the young woman. "And he won't be able to do much about it. Too busy to discuss peace terms with my dear sweet husband and his Lords."

"Let me summarize all this. You are asking from me that I flirt with your son during the feast and that action will settle my relationship with the King?" She asks in a laugh.

"That is a little bit too simplified. But, I hope it will make him think and probably react to it afterwards."

"Aye and probably lead me to another argument with him, that's for sure."

"Only if you play stubbornness again."

"Again?"

"You are a woman with temper, I can sense that. I'm one too. We are made in the same wood. But, you have to learn to sweeten up… Be seductive, playing fragility. Men love to be the knights from the songs. They like to be master of the game. We just give them the impression they are, that's all." Lady Sybell shrugs.

"But…"

"Sweetling, do you love him?"

"I… Yes." Ylliria lowers her gave on the floor.

"Do you want things to be fixed between you? Do you want to know exactly what is going on?

"Aye. From the bottom of my heart, I would like to feel at ease again. I would like that shooting pain out of my chest." Ylliria suddenly bursts. "I just want to know." She finally whispers.

"Then do me that simple favor." Lady Sybell gently says, sitting next to her and taking her hands in hers. "Tonight, you are going to forget all your troubles and your sorrows and just be blithe."

"I will, My Lady." She smiles.

.

It's only hours later that the rain finally stops. Jon decides to slow down the pace of his horse, certain by now that no Wildlings were after him. A sudden throbbing pain makes him looks down on his right thigh. He is surprised to see an arrow jutting out from the back of it. "When did that happen?" He grabs hold of the shaft and gives it a tug, but the arrowhead was sunk deep in the meat of his leg and the pain atrocious. He tries to think back on the madness at the Inn, but all he could remember was the beast, gray and terrible. "A Direwolf, for sure." But, he has never seen an animal moving so fast. "Like a gray wind... Could Robb have returned to the North?" Jon shakes his head in disbelieve. "There were no soldiers. Only the wolf."

He clumsily slides down off the mare's back, swallowing a scream when the foot of his injured leg hits the ground."I need to get rid of this arrow. I can't continue to ride like this." Jon sits down, settling his back against a tree trunk. He curls his hand around the fletching, takes a deep breath and shoves the arrow forward. "By all the Gods, this is agony!" He grunts and curses. He tries again, but has to stop, his entire body starting to shake. "Come on, once more." He encourages himself. This time he lets out a huge scream while pushing the arrowhead through the other side of his thigh and finally slowly driving the shaft through his leg. He lets himself relaxed, getting back his breath. But after a while, he realizes that if he does not make himself move he would bleed to death.

Jon crawls to the little river where his horse was drinking. He cleans his thigh with the cold water and bounds it tight with a strip of tissue he tears off his cloak. He decides to lay down for a time to let his mare peacefully graze. When he opens his eyes again, he searches the sky for the Ice Dragon star that will give him the right direction to reach the Wall and Castle Black. He grabs the mane of his horse and jumps on its back, wincing from the pain. He gently taps his heels on its flanks. "Let's go home, will you?" He tells the animal.

Jon and the mare ride without respite the whole night and through the next morning. They were both totally worn out and the wound on his leg was more painful than ever, but they could not make another stop. He has to reach the Wall before the Magnar. On top of a hill, he finally sees a brown ribbon of Kingsroad. "Now all you need to do is following this road, girl, and soon the Wall." He gently pats the horse's neck before massaging his own injured leg that is as stiff as wood by now.

The fever that rose since the morning makes him day-dreaming, faces dancing in front of his half-closed eyes. Lord Mormont, Grenn, Edd and Sam, he prays, hoping they have escaped the Fist. His Lord father, hoping his bones are now resting peacefully with the other Kings in Winterfell's crypt. Winterfell, he sees the courtyard where his brothers and sisters are playing and laughing. He even hears their screams as he was next to them. And the smile, her smile. "Ylliria." He whispers. Slowly her face melts with Ygrid's. "It was wrong to make love to you. Forgive me." He says before waking up in a start, feeling himself slowly slipping down the back of his horse. He grabs the mane a little bit tighter and raises his gaze to discover that he almost rode through Mole's Town; a small village in truth, with its handful of wretched houses and its brothel only distinguishable by its red lantern dangling above the door_._ Jon dismounts and enters the stable. "I need a fresh mount, with saddle and bridle." He shouts at two boys sleeping in the first box. One of them runs to prepare a horse while the other is bringing him a skin of wine and a small loaf of bread. "You need to warn the village. There are Wildlings south of the Wall. Make the people gather their thinks and run for Castle Black." He orders them, pulling himself on the new horse, gritting his teeth at the pain in his leg. "Do it, now!" He yells as his fresh mouth starts to gallop.

.

After a good warm bath, Ylliria is in front of the dressing table in her one-night-stand bedroom, Lady Sybell and her maid fluttering around her. They have braid ribbons, the same color as her gown, with locks of her hair and attaching them into a complicated pattern.

"I already told Raynald what is expected of him tonight and he is thrilled to play that role for you." Lady Sybell joyfully says. Ylliria lowers her gaze on her lap. "Oh, don't tell me you have sudden doubts now!" She puts one fist on her waist.

"No, no… I have no doubts. I was just thanking the Gods. They were so merciful with me, placing all those good people along my path, helping me in the most kindly ways. Belinda and Maester Luwin in Winterfell, Mother Clarise at the Sisters and now you, Lady Westerling. Thank you from the bottom of my heart." The young Lady answers, rising from her chair to unexpectedly hug Lady Sybell.

"Well, I have to thank you too, my dear. It is a very long time since I had so much fun… And it's just the beginning!" She gently pushes her aside. "Look at you! You are just stunning, sweet Lady."

Ylliria looks at her reflection in the mirror and a wide smile opens up on her face. "It's the dress that makes it all." She comments.

"It suits you perfectly." Lady Sybell goes behind her, lightly pulling at the bodice, pumping up Ylliria's breast. "Showing a little flesh will certainly not harm anyone." She winks when they hear soft knocks on the door. "That must certainly be my son."

The maid opens the door to let Sir Raynald enter. He is a tall man, with sandy blond hair and deep blue eyes. He choose to wear a black and green velvet doublet sewed with golden thread, a pair of dark green breeches, a short sword hanging on his belt and black supple leather boots. "My Lady, it will be an honor to have you on my arm tonight." He hands her a fresh dark red rose that he picked from the garden.

"Sir Raynald, the pleasure is mine." Ylliria curtseys, accepting the little gift.

"Isn't my Raynald handsome?" Lady Sybell whispers in her ear, making her blush.

"Shall we go, mother?" He puts one arm out to her and presents the other to Ylliria.

.


	75. Chapter 75

Chapter 75: Healing the pain.

Dawn slowly brakes to the east when finally Jon approaches the Wall. He urges on his horse, asking him for a last gallop towards Castle Black.

Strangely no sentries are posted to stop him when he passes through the gate and no one comes to meet him. "Where is everybody? Is it late already?" He whispers, looking around for traces of battle. He finally spots some smoke rising from the armory's chimney. He dismounts and limps to it.

Warmth slashes his face when he opens the door. Sitting by the fire, one-armed Donal Noye, the armorer, looks up at the noise. "By the Seven Hells, Jon Snow! Is that really you?" He comes as he had seen a ghost.

"It feels good to be back." Jon sighs.

"Is that so? We've heard you'd gone over to Mance Rayder." Donal frowns.

"Who told you that?" Jon leaning against the door to stay upright.

"Jarman Buckwell when he returned from his last ranging. His scouts claim they saw you riding along with the Wildlings and that you were wearing a sheepskin cloak." Noye explains. "And I can see that last part is true." He points at the cloak he wears.

"It's all true. But, I was under Qhorin Halfhand's orders." He confesses. "Donal, where is the garrison?"

"Defending the Wall against your Wildling friends."

"Aye, but where?"

"Everywhere. You can hear the horns blowing from every corner. All along the Wall. There're here. There're there. But strangely, one glimpse of a black cloak and they flee to the woods again and next day they're somewhere else."

"Those are just feints. Mance wants us to spread ourselves thin. The gate is what he wants and his main attack will be here."

"Boy, your leg is drenched in blood." Noye suddenly notices.

Jon looked down, his wound was opened again. "An arrow wound."

Noye slides his one-arm under Jon's to help support him. "You're white as chalk. If you were not burning hot, I would have taken you for a White-walker. Come, I'll take you to Maester Aemon."

"There's no time for that. The Wildlings I climbed over the Wall with are just behind, coming from Queenscrown."

"How many of them?"

"Around a hundred and twenty and well-armed for Wildlings. Bronze armors, some bits of steel. How many men are left here?"

"Forty odd. The crippled, the infirm and some green boys still in training." Noye replies.

"If Marsh is gone protecting the Wall, who is the Castellan here?"

Donal starts to laughs. "Sir Wynton, Gods preserve us. But, he is the last knight in the castle. So, there was no other choice to make. Eighty years a ranger, but his strength and wits are gone. Do you remember that once, where he felt asleep at supper and almost drowned in his bowl of pea soup?"

"Aye." Jon smiles, despite the pain.

"Where's your wolf?" Noye asks as they cross the castle yard.

"Ghost? I had to leave him when I climbed over the Wall. I was hoping he could make his way back here."

"Sorry, lad, there's been no sigh of him." They slowly limp up to the Maester's quarters, beneath the rookery. "Clydas!" He yells, kicking the door open.

The little steward appears, running down the stairs. His eyes widening at the sight of Jon. "Lay him down, I'll fetch the Maester."  
.

Ylliria enters the Great Hall at the arm of Sir Raynald, the heir of the Westerling family. Lady Sybell is just behind them, followed by her two daughters, Jeyne and Elenya. "Show them your best smile, Ylliria." She whispers in her ear. They are marching through the center aisle where all the smaller Lords and Sirs are already sitting on each side. Arrived at the dais, Raynald grabs Ylliria's chair and accompany her to take a seat. She does not dare having a look at Robb, already sitting at his designated place at the other end of the table - as Lady Sybell had mentioned her in her master plan. Even if she is not looking, she knows the Lady won't miss a single detail of the scene. "Thank you, My Lord. You are very kind." Ylliria gently says, still wearing her nicest smile.

"Red or white wine, My Lady." He asks her.

"I always favor white when there is a choice." She answers, wanting to start any conversation to help her to calm her nerves.

"Best choice ever to make, My Lady. This wine comes from our own lands. It is not as sweet as southern brands and you could find a very small salty taste to it, due to the vineyards facing the sea." He explains, pouring her a cup. "But, it's light, fresh and easy to drink without making you completely drunk at once." He laughs.

"I wouldn't mind being a little light-headed tonight, My Lord." She purrs.

"Wait till the dance starts, I will make you feel that way no problem."

She lightly bends closer to him. "Before anything starts, I would like to thank you for your kindness, Sir. I do not know what your mother told you exactly, but promise to tell me if you start to feel uncomfortable with this situation."

"Don't worry, My Lady." He gently takes her hand and kisses it. "This mission is really not a burden, I promise you. You seem to be a very kind and sweet Lady. I can see it in your eyes. There is no evil in them."

"Are you a magician too?"

"I got that from my mother for sure." He laughs again. "And please, call me Raynald."

"Only if you call me Ylliria."

"Deal done." He raises his cup to cheer on that with her.

"Both of you are playing just perfect, my Sweetlings." Lady Sybell suddenly comes between them as she had finished the round of the table to welcome all their guests. "The King cannot get his eyes off of you, my dear." She whispers. "Just continue to ignore him for now."

Lord Westerling gently knocks on the table to request silence in the Hall and takes his cup in his hand. "My dear honored guests, I would like to thank you for your presence tonight and welcome you once more to the Crag. The Peace terms discussion went very well, thanks to the understanding and kindness of the King of the North. We are both agree that war won't bring any good to any of us and our people has already suffered enough as it is. I raise my cup to settle this peace today and for all days to come. Please, join me."

All the guests are going up at once, all with their drinks in hand and start to shout. "To Westerling! To Winterfell!"

At that moment, Ylliria and Robb's eyes briefly met. She draws a shy smile on her face and he just lightly bows his head to her.

Suddenly, the hall fill up with maids and servants, carrying large trays with all sorts of courses. During the whole supper, Raynald is full of consideration towards Ylliria and finally succeeds to put her at ease. They talk about their youth, their life in a castle, commenting the food and most of all laughing a lot. She has such a good time in his company that she nearly forgot the real purpose of this play.

After the sweets were served, musicians start to play to announce the next festivities. Lord Westerling has foreseen jugglers and acrobats to entertain the guests before the dance begins. Ylliria, like most of them, is cheering and clapping in her hands in delight, having seldom the chance to see such acts before in her life.

Robb, his elbows on the table and his hands crossed under his chin does not seem to have the same enthusiasm.

.

As soon as Noye eases Jon down onto his back, the young man closes his eyes to stop the world from spinning around him. Maester Aemon was not long to arrive. "By the Seven, Jon!" He comes when he sits next to him on the bunk. "Donal, put a kettle of wine on the fire and my irons as well. I need them red-hot. Clydas, take that good sharp knife of yours and cut open his breeches." He orders around.

"There are Wildlings coming." Jon tells him, as Clydas runs the blade up his leg, slicing the heavy black cloth. "From the south. We climbed the Wall..." He winces when the steward tears the tissue away from his wound.

"We?" Maester Aemon gave Jon an odd look.

"I was with them. Qhorin Halfhand commanded me to join them and spy on them… Ahhhhh, that hurts." Jon lets out a scream when the Maester's fingers start to explore around the gash. "The Magnar of Thenn... We need to…" He clenches his teeth.

"You will tell me all what you've seen and done when you will be stronger."

"No! There are already near… Where is Lord Commander Mormont?"

"Jon, it grieves me to say, but Mormont was murdered at Craster's Keep, by the hands of his Sworn Brothers."

"By his own men?" The young man says in disbelieve. "Mormont's dead. I had feared it when I discover the aftermath of battle on the Fist, but I never thought he could be slain like that. Who? Who turned on him?" He harshly asks.

"Thieves, cowards and killers. We should have seen it coming. The Watch is not what it used to be, too few honest men to keep the rascals in line." Noye intervenes while turning the Maester's blades in the fire.

"How did you know about Mormont?" Jon comes.

"A dozen made it back from the Fist. Amongst others, Dolorous Edd, Giant, your friend the Aurochs. They told us."

"Only a dozen? We were two hundred leaving Castle Black with Mormont." He comes. "Does this mean Marsh is Lord Commander, then?"

"Aye, until we can hold a choosing." Maester Aemon says. "Clydas, bring me the flask." He calls.

A stab of pain reminds Jon of his own misfortunes. The Maester squeezes his hand. "We will give you some milk of the poppy in a minute."

"I don't need..." The young man tries to rise.

"You do... This will hurt." Aemon firmly says.

"Be still or I'll tie you down." Noye sits behind him, holding him with his one arm solidly wrapped around him.

"Drink this." Aemon hands him a full cup of the potion. Clydas also brings a basin of warm water and Maester Aemon washes the pus and the blood from his wound, making Jon struggle not to scream again. "The Magnar's men are disciplined and they have bronze armors." He tells them. It seems that talking helps to keep his mind off his leg. "Styr has a hundred of his own men and a score of raiders who know the land south of the Wall almost as well as we do. Mance never found the Horn of Winter, though, that's something. That's what he was searching for along the Milkwater."

"The Horn of Winter in an ancient legend. Does the King-beyond-the-Wall truly believe that such a thing exists?" The Maester pauses, washcloth in hand.

"Ygrid told me they all do." Jon says.

"Who is Ygrid?" Noye asks.

"A woman of the free folk. She's with Styr, but she's not... She's young, only a girl, in truth, wild, but she..." His tongue suddenly feeling thick and clumsy. "I broke my vows with her. I never meant to, but... I wasn't strong enough. The Halfhand commanded me, ride with them, watch, I must not balk, I..." His head is as if it was packed with wet wool.

Maester Aemon sniffs Jon's wound to see if all the pus was washed away and puts the bloody cloth back in the basin. "Donal, hand me the hot knife. And hold him tight now." He asks the armorer.

"I will not scream." Jon tells himself when he sees the blade glowing red hot coming near his leg. But, he could not keep that vow for long. He starts to pound with his fist against the frame of the bunk, while the Maester applies the metal over the gash. The pain is so huge that he feels small and weak and helpless inside. When the iron touches him once again, he finally faints.

.


	76. Chapter 76

Chapter 76: Light-headed.

In the Great Hall, some men start pushing the tables and benches against the walls to prepare a improvised larger dance-floor. The musicians begin with a common Carol tune to encourage the people to gather in the center. A singer, standing in the middle of the farandole, sings the verses, leaving the chorus to the dancers. And the guests that were too old or not in the mood for it are request to clap in their hands and feet.

When the well-known rhythm of a Lavolta starts, Raynald grabs Ylliria's hand and leads her in the middle of the other couples. "I promised you to make your head spin tonight, didn't I?" He smiles, bowing towards her before starting the first dance steps.

"I never doubted that you are a man of your word, My Lord." She jests, when they both are close face to face.

Side by side, they are turning in circle. "The King looks really morose for someone that just conclude peace with a great part of the West." Raynald informs her.

"I noticed... And I start to feel a little bit sad seeing him like this."

"Maybe you should ask my mother what to do next." He takes her by the waist, lifts her up and puts her down again.

"I don't see her." Ylliria looks around when they are back at the first step of the dance.

"She went up to the balcony, certainly to have a better view. My dear mother and her thirst for little plots." He smirks, turning around Ylliria. "She knows every single romance song that was ever written."

"Really? No, you are exaggerating."

"So little, I'm afraid." He lifts her up and puts her down again when finally the music stops. He bows and takes her hand to lead her back at her seat. "Thank you for this nice dance, Ylliria. But, if you would please excuse me, I really need to go... You know." He says, pointing at the exit.

"Oh yes, of course." She giggles as she understands what he was referring too.

.

When Jon's eyelids flutter open again, he feels like wrapped in thick wool and floating, still under the influence of the milk of the poppy. He cannot seem to move, but for now he does not care. He lets his mind drift where it feels like it. And it takes him far away of Mance Rayder, the Wildlings, the Wall and the Brothers. He is lying in his bed in his room in Winterfell and Ylliria sits at the edge of it, gently smiling while taking care of him. "Hush now, Jon. You need to rest and take back some strength. I'll stay right here watching over you." She whispers to him. He slowly closes his eyes again and falls into a deep sleep.

The next waking is not as gentle. The room is dark and cold, but he was burning under the blankets. The throbbing pain in his leg turned into a hot knife at every motion. He gasps, swallowing a scream when he tried to see if he still had a leg.

"Jon, you're awake?" A soft man's voice comes near him, bringing the light of a candle. "You shouldn't move."

"Pyp?" Jon whispers as he recognizes his friend.

"Aye, brother."

"I thought you were gone with Marsh."

"Nan, he thinks I'm too small and too green." He chortles. "Hey, Grenn is here too."

Jon slowly turns his head to the other side.

"Nice to see you back, brother." The Aurochs gently says.

"Water." He asks.

Pyp quickly pours him a wooden cup and helps him to drink.

"I saw the Fist on my way back." He comes after a long swallow. "I saw the blood and the dead horses. Noye told me that only a dozen make it back. Do you know who?" He talks with a raspy voice.

"Giant, Dolorous Edd, Donnell Hill, Ulmer, Dywen, Left hand Lew, Garth Greyfeather, four or five more and me." Grenn counts.

"And Sam?" Jon asks, worriedly.

"I saw him killing one of the Others, Jon. He stabbed him with that dragon-glass knife you made him. We started to call him Sam the Slayer." The Aurochs starts to explain. "He hated that, though." He laughs.

"What happened to him?" He insists.

"I shook him and screamed at him. I even slapped his face to make him go up again. Giant tried to drag him, but he was too heavy." Grenn sounds miserable. "Sam was holding Lord Commander Mormont's head on his lap. He wouldn't let him go, Jon. He wouldn't move. We finally left him there, at Craster Keep."

"Hey, he might still be alive." Pyp tries to be joyful. "He might surprise us all, coming riding back in the morrow."

"Aye, with Mance Rayder's head under his arm. Sam the Slayer!" Grenn add with a smile.

"You shouldn't have left him alone." Jon tries to sit on his bed, but he directly falls back, crying out and cursing.

"Go wake the Maester and tell him that Jon needs more milk of the poppy." Pyp asks his friend.

"No!... The Magnar..." The young man pleads.

"We all know about that. The sentries on the Wall were told to keep an eye on the South. Donal dispatched some men to Weatherback Ridge to watch over Kingsroad. And Maester Aemon has send ravens to Eastwatch and Shadow Tower to warn them of the impending Wildling attack." Pyp explains, covering him again with the blankets.

Maester Aemon enters in the room, chasing the two young men away to let him through with a gesture of his hand. "Jon, you have to be gently with yourself. Your wound was festered and I had to enlarge it to have all the pus out." He sits near him, uncorking the flask. "You will not heal, unless you rest." He gives it to Jon. "Drink now."

"I can't." Jon pushes it away, fighting the pain again to sit. "Mance will be here soon. Thousands of men with giants and mammoths... Did you send word to Winterfell? To the King, my brother?" Sweat is dripping off his forehead.

"He doesn't know." Grenn whispers to Pyp.

"Doesn't know what?" The young man anxiously asks.

"Jon." Maester Aemon says, gently trying to lay him down again. "During your absence, much and more happened in the realm. There is another King around. Balon Greyjoy from the Iron-Islands crowned himself and has sent his long-ships against the North."

"Robb will send us some men, I know." Jon stubbornly says.

"We have send word to all the Kings we know about. But, none of them will come. They have more pressing uses for their men. And we are so far off and forgotten." Aemon gently presses the young man's arm. "And Winterfell."

"What about it?" His eyes suddenly widening.

"Jon, be strong. Winterfell is no more..."

.

During Raynald absence for some natural needs to fulfill, Ylliria watches the other guests continuing to swirl on another round dance, sipping at her white wine. She looks up to the balcony where Lady Westerling had taking watch. She screws up her eyes trying to understand the meaning of the different gestures that the Lady is making to her. When suddenly she turns her head to the right, she discovers Robb standing next to her. "You have never granted me the pleasure of dancing with you, Ylliria." He gently says.

"We scarcely had the chance to do so, Your Grace." She accepts his reached-out hand.

Robb had well-chosen the moment to ask her, the musicians have just started to play a ballad. The steps are very close to a Lavolta, but just carried out with slower and closer moves. "Would you promise me not to run away from me if I'm telling you how stunning you look tonight?"

"Thank you. Your Grace is very kind to me."

"It was not the King talking."

"Is that so? Who else could that be then? I don't see anybody else around."

"You seem to have a good affinity with Sir Raynald." He continues, not paying attention at her sarcasm.

"He is a very nice man, kind and funny. Very easy to be around, truth is."

"And surely searching for a woman to marry."

"Does His Grace think that I am looking for another man to... wed? With Your Grace permission, I would just remind that I am already married." She smirks.

"Far be it from me to think such a thing about you, My Lady." He puts an arm around her waist and her hand in his, following the steps of the dance.

"And yet, the tone of your voice might make me think the opposite." She spins around to find herself back to back with him.

"It is just that I find your behavior a little bit too loose for a future Sister of the Health God."

She briskly gets rid of his hold, turns back and runs out of the Hall without another word, leaving Robb alone amongst the other dancers.

Lady Sybell that hasn't missed a thing from the scene goes after Ylliria. She does not have to go very far, since the young Lady has find shelter by sitting on top of the winding staircase that leads to the balcony. "What did he say that made you all at once forget what I told you about keeping your temper down?"

"He called me a loose woman!" She barks.

"Keep your voice down! It's nobody else's concern." The Lady reprimands her.

"Pardon me, My Lady. You and your son were so kind to try to help me. But, I think our case is lost. Each time the King and I go near each other, it finishes in an argument."

"I do not see this the same way... I had the opportunity to watch the King the whole evening. And I'm absolutely sure now that you two belong together and that he is madly in love with you, Ylliria. If he didn't care so much about you, why would he behave like that? He is just plain jealous, exactly what we wanted to know... Our plan worked, Sweetling." Lady Sybell gently taps on Ylliria's thighs. "Tomorrow, on your way back to the encampment, let him swim in his thoughts. If he talks to you, answer him with short sentences but nicely. And, do nothing else. Later or the next evening, ask for a meeting with him, alone. And tell him you came to make peace, that you apologize for the arguments and wants to settle things straight with him. You'll see, I gave you my word, he will eat from your palm, like a little bird."

"How do you know all these things, My Lady?"

"Experience, my mother and a few songs." She starts to laugh.

"And a little magic too?" Ylliria softly smiles.

"Hum... Maybe." Lady Sybell puts an arm around her and gently pulls her close to her. "Promise me you'll do as I said."

"I promise, My Lady. Do I have your leave to go? I would prefer withdrawing in my room now."

"Sure. But, not without saying goodnight to my son." She smirks. "He must probably be in the yard with the other boys."

_._


	77. Chapter 77

Chapter 77: Facing the facts.

"Winterfell is no more?" Jon stares at Aemon's white eyes. "My brothers are at Winterfell, Bran and Rickon... And Ylliria... What about them?" He comes with sudden panic in his voice.

"I am so very sorry, my boy. From what we know, your little brothers might be dead after Theon Greyjoy took the Castle in his father's name. And when one of the Bannermen, that your brother the King had sent, threatened to retake it, he put it into flames."

"That can't be true." Jon says, covering his eyes with an arm to avoid the others to see his distress.

"But, your brothers were avenged." Grenn gently comes. "Apparently, Lord Bolton's son killed all the Ironmen and tortured Theon Greyjoy to death."

"I'm sorry, Brother." Pyp softly squeezes his shoulder. Jon briskly grabs his hand, looking in his eyes. "There was no mentioned of the Lady in the messages we received." His friend says, lightly shaking his head.

Another spasm of pain comes up from his leg, obliging him to lie down again. "There must be some mistake." He insists. "At Queenscrown, I saw a Direwolf. A gray Direwolf came to my rescue and that is how I could flee from the Wildlings. I'm sure it knew me. And there were only two gray ones in the litter we found in the woods. The one from Robb and the one from Bran. If Robb is somewhere far South, it must be Summer then. So, why would the wolf be here if Bran was not with him? Summer would never left my little brother behind, even dead." He thinks out loud.

"Drink this now." Grenn holding a cup to his lips and Jon finally swallow the thick chalky potion.

Maester Aemon slowly withdraw from the room while Pyp and the Aurochs are tugging the young man back in his bed.

Slowly, Jon's head starts to get full of images and sounds again. Snarling and biting wolves, his little brothers' laughter, Ylliria's long auburn hair swaying when she runs after them. "They can't be dead. Theon would never touch them. We were all raised together." He says for himself. "And Winterfell... How could Winterfell be gone? It's made of dark granite, solid oak and iron. It was built to stay for thousands of years. I'm sure the Stark stone Kings are still sitting on their thrones in the Crypt... Forever proud... Indestructible..." He deliriously babbles before his dreams are taking him back home once more. He sees himself splashing in the hot pools beneath the huge white tree in the Godwood, training with his longbow in the courtyard and then around the table in the Kitchen and laughing with Belinda and Robb. "I would have feel it if they were harmed. I'm sure they are still alive. They just fled and they are hiding somewhere not to be found." He convinces himself before loosing total consciousness.

.

After they break their fast, it's time for the King of the North and his entourage to make their goodbyes to the Westerlings. The Treaty of surrender of the Crag and the common peace agreement has been signed by both parties and they each will keep a copy of the document.

Their horses have been prepared and are waiting in the castle's courtyard, held still by stablemen.

Lady Sybell arrives with a package in her hands. "My Lady, I'd like to give you this as a token of our friendship."

Ylliria has a peek inside and recognizes the color of the dress she was wearing at the feast. "Oh My Lady! Our friendship exists for sure and I will never forget what you did for me. But, this is too much. I really can't accept."

"What do you want me to do with it? It will just gather dust in a trunk." The Lady shrugs.

"You have two daughters, My Lady…"

"And they seems not having the same taste in clothing than their mother." Lady Sybell lightly laughs. "You'll need a wedding dress soon enough. It will be an honor to know you will wear it." She whispers in her ear while hugging her.

"And it will be an honor for me to do so, My Lady. If that day ever comes." Ylliria smiles.

"Have faith in the magic." The Lady winks as they part.

"This meeting between the King and my father would not have been the same without you, My Lady. You have enlightened our castle Hall with your beauty and your sweetness." The Westerling's heir comes, kissing Ylliria's hand.

"And the feast would not have been so enjoyable and exquisite without your wit and your kindness, Sir Raynald." She deeply curtseys.

"My Lady, it's time to take the road." Robb cuts. "I'd like to be back at the Host before mid-day." He continues in a commanding tone.

"Of course, Your Grace. I'm ready to leave." She gently answers, mounting her horse and smiling at Lady Sybell.

They are leaving the castle through the Main Gate, the King in the lead, Ylliria waving a last time to the Westerlings.

.

Maester Aemon is sitting on the edge of Jon's bed when he wakes up. "How are you feeling today, Jon?"

"How long did I sleep?" He asks in a rasping voice.

"Three entire days." The Maester puts a hand on the young man's forehead. "Your fever seems to be dropped a little. That is an encouraging sign."

"The Wildlings, did they launch their attack?" Jon tries to rise from his bed.

"Not yet. Tell me truth, is there still blood on your bandage?"

"Just a small spot. And the pain is way less too."

"Good. I've made a crutch for you." Aemon taps on it. "You still didn't answer my first question, though." The old man gently smiles.

"I told you, the pain is way…"

"I was not asking about your arrow wound, Jon." The Maester friendly cuts him. "How are you coping with all the bad news we gave you when you returned?"

"If I recall, we already had that kind of discussion; about the oath I willingly took and the hard choices that I had to make." The young man was for once happy that Maester Aemon was blind. He could not see the sadness that was marking his face.

"I might be blind, but I'm not deaf, son. I heard you crying in your sleep."

"Well, I did my mourning. Now, it's time for me to go back to my duties." Jon grabs the crutch and pushes himself up, wincing.

"I just wanted to tell you once more how sorry I am about your brothers and the Lady of your heart."

"Thank you, Maester. I know you all are." He sighs, trying to make some steps around his room. His muscles are feeling sore from lying down so long and his wounded leg stiff as wood. But at least, he has some strength back. "What was done to strengthen our position?"

"Don't worry, Donal Noye has things well in hand."

"And the villagers from Mole's Town?"

"Arriving with a dropper. We are putting them on top of the Wall for their safety."

"I need to go down and see if I can be of any use."

"You still need to rest, Jon. It would be stupid to open your wound again." The Maester grabbing him by the sleeve.

"I'm turning crazy in this room, I need some air." He nervously says, his voice lightly trembling. "I need to put my head to something else."

"Let it out first, son."

"Letting out what?" Jon suddenly barks.

"Your grief, your sorrow, the inner pain, that void in your soul. Call it has you like. Avoiding facing it or burying it down won't make it go away. It will haunt you day after day and night after night."

"Something that isn't there can't go away, right?" The young man tries to turn it in a jape.

"You can fool me perhaps, but you will not fool yourself very long. You have lost a lot of dear people in a short period of time. It is just harder to realize it because you are so far away from them. You do not have a proper grief to make, because you did not see them dead in front of you. You did not see their corpses buried to the ground. You did not..."

"STOP! ENOUGH!" Jon suddenly yells. "No more… They aren't dead, it can't be… I would have felt it… Inside." He lets himself fall on the bed again. "I can't have lost them all. This is just a damn nightmare." He finally bursts into tears.

Maester Aemon puts a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Now, you're fit to fight against the Wildlings, son."

.

Robb is riding his way back to the encampment up front the column, Ylliria is in the middle with guards in front and behind her. The King did not speak a word to anyone since they left The Crag. Disregarding Lady Sybell's advice, she suddenly taps her heels into the horse's flanks and arrives next to him. "Would Your Grace be so kind to answer one of my questions?" She gently says with a smile.

"About what?" He harshly replies, not looking at her.

"I was wondering what benefit it would give the North to make peace with the Crag. It is so deep in the west and the Iron-Islands are not far from it. No to mention the rest of this territory, except for Riverrun, is still under Lannister's hold?"

"Since when did you become a war strategist?" He grumbles.

"I talk a lot with your soldiers and your captains, Your Grace. They like to talk when they come to the nursing tent. And I am just asking myself if this war has still a purpose?"

"Vengeance is a purpose. Honor is a purpose. Freedom is a purpose."

"Enrichment and heroism are purposes too… For some at least."

"I don't care about the gold and the glory." He adjusts the seating position in his saddle, visibly ill-at-ease talking with her. "You really believe that I'm fighting this war so they can sing songs about me?"

"That is not what I meant, Your Grace. I know you are not made of that sort. But, even if you have won all your battles, where did it lead you? Wouldn't it be the time to go home?"

"I want to go home. And I want my men to follow me home." He says, finally mellowing.

"Then, why don't you?" Ylliria insists.

"Because we will never be safe before the Lannisters are defeated. And because I believe in justice."

"By chopping King Joffrey's head, you mean?"

"That will be a start."

"Your Grace?" The captain of the guards suddenly interrupts him. "A horseman is approaching." He states, pointing at the road in front of them.

The other guards are immediately surrounding both the King and Ylliria for protection, stopping their ride till their captain reaches out to the approaching man. They watch him talking and leading him back towards them.

"Your Grace, My Lady." The horseman bows. "The Kingslayer escaped during the night."

"How?" Robb asks. "HOW?" He repeats, raising his voice as the soldier does not dare to speak out.

The King immediately orders to rush back to the encampment.

.


	78. Chapter 78

Chapter 78: Impending attack.

At Castle Black, the horns start to blow the alarm early that morning, as soon as the guards, posted on the south tower saw the smoke coming up from Mole's Town.

Jon wakes up in a start and hobbles in his room, leaning on the padded crutch Maester Aemon had given him. His leg still hurts like hell, but only when he puts his weight on it. He takes him more time to get dressed and his fever is still not totally dropped, but nothing will stop him to help his Black Brothers and push back the Wildling assault. Before leaving his room, he drinks a cup of dreamwine, instead of milk of the poppy and chews some willow bark against the fever, hoping that would give him the strength he needs.

"I can fight!" He insists when he meets Noye in the yard, leading the preparations against the attack.

"Is your leg healed?" The armorer suspiciously asks.

"Not totally, but I can walk around well enough." He shows him the crutch. "And I know you need me."

"Aye, I have need of every man who knows which end of the spear he needs to stab a Wildling."

"The pointy end." Jon smiles, remembering what he had told Arya when he gave her Needle.

"Might be you'll do then. Go up the tower with a longbow and make sure every arrow you launch reach its target."

"Aye, Commander." Jon jests.

"I ain't no Commander!" Noye barks. "Get out of my sight!" He finally cracks a smile, when he sees the grin on the young man's face.

Up on the King's Tower, Jon has a perfect view on Kingsroad on one side and the Castle's yard on the other. Men in black cloaks are visible from the other roofs and towers tops as well, just that nine of the ten happens to be made of straw. They had more clothing in store than men to wear them, so Maester Aemon came up with the idea of making scarecrow sentinels. Noye had placed them on every tower and in half the windows; some even have spears or crossbows tied up under theirs arms, in hope that the Wildlings would see them from afar and decide that Castle Black was too well defended to attack with the number of men that made it over the Wall. And that it would buy some time for Lord Commander Marsh and his Rangers to come back.

Jon is sharing his tower top with six fake brothers and two real ones. Deaf Dick Follard, a seasoned soldier of the Watch and a pretty green boy from Oldtown, that arrived while Jon was on the other side, called Satin. He asks him about his odd name and the young man proudly tells him that he got it from his whore mother when born and raised in the brothel she worked in.

Castle Black does not have walls between its towers and it is quasi impossible to hold against an attack coming from the South. Donal Noye knew that and had empty the armory, moved everything they might need at the top of the Wall and build up a stand around the main gate. So, the castle suddenly had a wall of sorts, in shape of a ten feet high crescent-shaped barricade made of casks of nails, barrels of all types, crates, bales of black broadcloth, fire-hardened stakes and a huge pile of sacks of grain. All this in the hope it would be enough to defend the two principal places that need to be protected; the North's gate and the great wooden switchback stair that climbs its way up the side of the Wall.

Jon sees the last villagers arriving on the road and they were urged to climb up to the top as fast as they could, by taking the stairs for the most valid ones and with the pulled-cage for the old, the children and the pregnant women.  
All the men and women volunteer to fight where dispatched by Noye among the Brothers armed with any kind of weapons they could handle and some clothes that could make the Wildling think they are real soldiers of the Night's Watch.

.

"You had Jaime Lannister in custody? Since when?" Ylliria asks as they dismount, in front of the King's tent.

"Before your arrival. We caught him during a fight."

"And what were your intentions towards him?"

"That is none of your concern, Ylliria. And I have no time to discuss any further for now." Robb harshly answers, turning around, ready to enter his quarters.

"Your Grace?" She pleads, gently taking him by the sleeve. "Don't be too hard on your mother."

He gets rid of her grip and leaves without another word.

After thanking the Captain and his guards for their kind service, Ylliria slowly marches back to the Sister's camp. Mother Clarise is standing in front of her tent, impatiently waiting for her. "How was it? I want to have all the details." She joyfully says, taking her by the arm and going inside.

A part of the afternoon, Ylliria explains her journey at the Crag, the feast, the Westerlings...

"Not too bad at all." The Mother concludes.

"Are you always so optimistic?" The young woman smiles.

"Always." Mother Clarise laughs. "Lady Sybell seems to be quite a character, though."

"I really didn't know what to think about her in the beginning. I saw her like an eccentric woman that was just bored in her castle and saw me as a little toy to play with for a while. But then…" She shrugs. "I don't know… Maybe I want to believe what she told me and reality might bite me soon again."

"The only way to know, my child, is going to the bottom of it. You should have a serious talk with the King. Tell him once and for all what you really have in your heart. Give him no chances to hedge or to make you wait another day. You demand an answer right now! It will not be the King you will address to, but Robb Stark."

Ylliria heavily sighs, knowing that Mother Clarise is right. "And no matter the answer, right?"

"And no matter the answer, I'm afraid." She gently takes her hand. "By the way, did you get all the supplies that were on the list?" She suddenly changes the subject.

"Aye, Mother. One of the soldiers that accompany us will bring the boxes by the morrow."

.

Sitting on the floor of their tower top to rest his leg, Jon hears one-armed Noye barking orders around with his strong voice. With the absence of Commander Bowen Marsh and his garrison, and as the more experienced soldier in the Castle, Donal became the designated leader.

"You think the scarecrow sentinels could pull the Wildlings out, My Lord?" Satin suddenly asks his eyes still pinned south.

"That would be a miracle. But, we can still hope it'll make them think twice before attacking." Jon answers, massaging his stiff tight around the wound.

"They would be here by now, don't you think? What are they waiting for?"

"I suppose they simply paused for a bit of rape and plunder in the village." Jon shrugs. "Or maybe they wait for the night, to move up under cover of darkness."

"That would be bad." The pretty green boy shivers.

Midday comes and goes, with still no sign of a Wildling. Owen the Oaf, the cook's helper, arrives with a basket of buns under one arm, a small wheel of cheese under the other and three skins of light wine in his hand. "Hobb said to feed you, in case you're stuck up here awhile."

"Thank him for us, Owen." Jon says, going back on his feet.

"I'm not hungry." Satin shakes his head when Jon hands him one of buns still hot from the oven.

"Eat. We don't know when you'll have another chance." He insists.

While nibbling on a piece of hard cheese, Jon looks around him, watching the men in their black cloaks pacing restlessly on the tower tops and shouting back and forth across the courtyards. Septon Cellodor is leading a prayer with the ones standing on the barricade, begging the Warrior to give them strength.

.

At the other end of the encampment and after the meeting with his Lords, Robb enters in his mother's tent still furious. "Tell me this isn't true?"

Lady Stark sits in front of her table, barely daring looking at her son.

"Why?" He yells.

"For the girls."

"You've betrayed me, mother."

"Robb..."

"Who is with him? Who helped you?"

"Brienne."

"I should have known that!"

"Robb, my dear son, please hear me out..."

"NO!" He cuts her. "You knew I would not allow it and you did it anyway."

"Bran and Rickon are somewhere alone in the North." She insists. "Sansa and Arya are captives at King's Landing. I have five children and only one of them is with me."

"I lost one son fighting by the King's side." Lord Karstark, that was standing behind Robb, intervenes. "And lost another, strangled with a chain by the Kingslayer himself. What you did is treason, My Lady. And I can't excuse you just because your children are not with you? I would carve out my hart and offer it to the Father's God if he would let my sons wake up from their graves and be on my side again." He angrily continues.

"I grieve for your sons, My Lord." Lady Catelyn softly says.

"I don't need your grieve. I need my vengeance. And you stole it from me!"

"Killing Jaime Lannister would not buy life to your children. But returning him to King's Landing, may buy life for my daughters."

"Jaime Lannister is played you for a fool, mother. He will never keep his word, like any of his kind. By your action, you have weakened our position; as our situation was not already bad enough. You brought discord into our camp. And all this you did behind my back." Robb heavily speaks. "Make sure she's guarded day and night." He raises his voice to order the two guards in front of the tent.

"Robb?" She pleads.

"How many men did we send on the pursuit of the Kingslayer?" He asks Lord Karstark, ignoring his mother's call.

"Forty, Your Grace." The Lord answers.

"Send another forty, with their fastest horses." He briskly leaves the tent.

"Robb." Lady Stark calls again, wanting to follow him outside. But, as soon as she makes the first step outside, the two guards are blocking her by crossing their spears in front of the canvas sheet's door.

_._


	79. Chapter 79

***** Be aware... Hot stuff coming! LOL!*****

Chapter 79: Battle in the North and intense sensations in the West.

The evening slowly comes down over Castle Black. "Light the fire and fill the kettle with oil." Jon requests to Satin before going downstairs to bar the door. It was made of oak studded with thick iron nails. "It might not stop the Thenns if they want to come in, but at least it will delay them a little bit." He thinks for himself, hobbling back to the roof, grimacing at the pain that slowly wakes up in his leg again. He refuses to drink more dreamwine, wanting to keep all his senses in alert for the battle to come.

And as Jon had anticipated, the Wildlings arrive with the night. The three Night's Watch men took their positions on three different sides of the round-tower.

Satin pisses himself as soon as he hears the first horn blowing. "I'm scared." He stutters as an excuse.

"And so are they, lad." Jon answers while loading his longbow with a first arrow. "Don't waste a quarrel unless you know you have a good clean shot, all right? We have ample supply up here, but ample does not mean inexhaustible. And hide behind the wall to reload, don't stay in front of your crenel. You get that?" He uses a commanding tone, hoping the young boy will concentrate on his crossbow and forget about his fear.

"Aye, My Lord." The boy from Oldtown shyly answers.

The first shapes that they could catch a glimpse on where slipping away around the armory, but it was too dark to have a clear target. Jon notices that the archers of the Tower of Guards were closer and already loosing shafts at them. Soon after, another threesome was running near the old stables. He steps up to the crenel, raises his bow and draws. "Wait. Wait." He whispers, aiming at his chosen target. The arrow makes a soft hiss, then he hears a grunt and only two shadows were continuing their way across the yard. Unfortunately, the time Jon pulls a second arrow from his quiver, they were already hidding. He searches for another target and founds four rushing around the Lord Commander's Keep. He pulls the string of his bow, aims and looses. The Thenn lets out a soft scream when he falls down. A few seconds later, he hears Satin's crossbow loosing his first quarrel. "I got one! In the chest! Did you see that?" He happily shouts out, raising his arms in the air.

"Get another one." Jon encourages him.

They do not have to search for targets now, only choosing them. Jon moves to a different crenel, side by side with Deaf Dick Follard. He gets off three arrows for every bolt the man discharges, but that is the advantage of a longbow. The night is just lit by a soft moonlight and time is now counted in numbers of rounds of notch, draw and loose. Jon's fingers are growing stiff and his thumb is bleeding, but still he relentlessly continues to send arrows around.

"Jon, the armory!" Deaf Dick suddenly yells. "They are on the roof and one has a torch." He hops up on the crenel for a better shot, jerks his crossbow to his shoulder and sends a first quarrel. The torch man disappears in a flash, but others are already putting the east stables afire.

Jon gives a quick look around. Fifty Thenns arrive from Kingsroad, another group was invading the vegetable garden and the old dry well; and a desperate fight was already starting on top of the Silent Tower, longswords against bronze axes. He hobbles across to Satin and grabs him by the shoulder. "With me!" He says. Together they move to the north parapet where the King's Tower looks down on the gate and Donal Noye's makeshift wall of logs, barrels and sacks. The Wildlings were there too, screaming in the Old Tongue as they storm the barricade, piercing with their spears, swinging their bronze axes, while quarrels and arrows are raining down on them from the archers that Noye has posted all around.

"What do we do?" Satin asks, overwhelmed by the situation.

"We kill them." Jon yells back, a black arrow already in his hand.

No archer could have asked for easier shots. The Thenns have their backs on the Tower where both Jon and Satin are launching their arrows and quarrels in a frenetic rate. As an automate, Jon reaches for another arrow in his quiver, but this time he finds it empty. He shows it to Satin that nods in understanding and goes for a new one inside the tower. Soon as he enters, the trapdoor slams open. No time to think or plan or shout for help, he drops his bow and reaches for Longclaw over his shoulder. He buries the blade in the middle of the first head that pops out. Bronze is no match against Valyrian steel, the blow went right thought the Thenn's helm, deep into his skull and he crashes back down where he came from. But there are more behind him, Jon knows from the shouting. "I need the oil!" He yells for Satin. Together, they grab thick quilted pads beside the fire, lift the heavy kettle of boiling oil and dump it down the hole on the Wildlings below. A mix of body stumbling and horrible screams is coming up from the trapdoor. Satin kicks it shut and both set the heavy iron kettle on top of it. "That was close." Jon says, taking back his breath.

.

By nightfall, Ylliria, with some anxiety, walks towards Robb's tent. Even if their last discussion ended up a bit abruptly, she has that compelling urge to see him and have that last talk Mother Clarise told her about. Before entering, she takes a last deep breath, praying that at least a small part of Lady Sybell's predictions would come true.

The King is sitting on his throne-chair, his gaze somewhere far away. It makes her sick at heart to see him looking so somber and sad. "My pardons, Your Grace." She softly comes.

"Ylliria." He jumps on his feet, trying to smile. "Please do come in."

She makes two steps further in the tent. "How are you?"

"How am I?" He slowly repeats, nodding his head and thinking at a nice answer. "My father is dead. The Lannisters have Sansa and Arya. The men I considered my closest friend has seized my home, manhandled my brothers and forced you to marry him. And today, I had to arrest my mother for treason. My whole family is teared apart. And on top of that, I'm fighting a war where I don't know if I have to march South or North."

"I'm sorry, Your Grace. My question was totally stupid."

"No. Forgive me, Ylliria. You were trying to be kind and I was at the edge of blowing it again... It's just..." He slowly approaches her. "I have no right to treat you the way I do lately."

"You have every right. You are the King."

"That is not the kind of King I want to be." He leans on the edge of the table, just two steps away from her.

"What kind do you want to be?" She gently smiles.

"I don't know. The good kind?" He shrugs, finally cracking a smile too.

"I already told you, Robb."

He raises an eyebrow when he hears her calling him by his name again and that felt good in his heart.

"You were a good Lord while your father was in King's Landing. You kept going despite the circumstances. And you are a good King now too. It's not the title that makes the man. It's what you have in here." She puts a hand on her heart. "No matter if you are high or low born. I hear your men talking all the time. Pain and suffering makes their tongues loosen up. Those men out there love and respect their King." She points to the outside. "They are ready to follow you anywhere, to fight with you and to die for you."

He softly laughs. "Thank you." He whispers.

"Don't thank me; I'm just a pale messenger."

He goes to reach her hand, but she back away a step.

She clears her throat. "In fact, I came here to make peace with you."

"At least, someone wants it." He jests "But, I didn't know we were at war."

"Sort of... We're arguing a lot lately. I had several talks with Mother Clarise and she kind of opens my eyes on certain things that I didn't want to face. Now, I understand your dilemma of that bridge crossing due to the rush you had to save your father. I will submit to your decision to marry Lord Frey's daughter and..."

"I don't want to marry the Frey girl!" He suddenly shouts out, plunging his eyes deep into hers.

"And I don't want you to marry her." She lets the words escaping her mouth before she could hold them. "But, you needed that bridge." She quickly adds.

He grabs her by the waist and starts to kiss her deeply. She accepts his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him tight. He lifts her up and walks to the bedroom quarters of his tent. He looks at her to see any signs of retreat or second thoughts, as their first time in Winterfell, slowly starting to untie the knot of her apron. She lifts it above her head in answer to his silent request. She unlaces his leather doublet while he struggles with the ribbons closing her gown. Their hands are moving eagerly, fumbling with those troublesome clothes. Their bare skins finally touch when they kiss again. He lifts her up and lays her down on his bed. She uncontrollably starts to laugh, her emotions overwhelming her. He gives her a puzzled look. She wraps an arm around his neck, pulls him towards her and burring her face in his neck, wanting to hold him as tight as possible like it was their last day on earth.

"Don't leave me... Ever again." Robb whispers.

"Only if you want me to stay."

He raises his head to look in her eyes again. "I want you... I need you... And I'm ready to leave everything, the North, the crown, my men, my honor... If you asked for it."

"I'm not... I just want you... Now..." She murmurs, taking his mouth for another fiery kiss.

Robb pulls her over him. Her hands leaning on each side of his head supporting her and her red-hair falling around her face. He gently caresses her cheeks with his fingers. "Why have we wasted so much time?"

"Let us forget all those misunderstandings... For now... We'll talk specifics later... I don't want to spoil any second of this moment." She dives in his soft green eyes before closing the space between their mouths.

He rolls her on her back again. He kisses her neck, her collarbone, her shoulder, going to her breast, left first, and then right. She softly moans, her fingers entwined in his soft curled hair. He buries his nose in her navel, making her giggle like a child. He continues kissing his way down to her dark-red triangle. He gently spreads her legs to facilitate the access to the spot he was lusting after. Both her hands suddenly close into fists grabbing the pelts that are spread over the bed, noisily breathing in when she feels his tongue invading her intimacy. She wants to ask what he is doing, but a sudden burning heat runs through her whole body and all she could voice was a long hoarse 'ahhhh'.

He rapidly makes his way up again, his desire to possess her becoming unbearable to hold anymore. She buries her nails into his back, as soon as he makes his first thrust into her. His breathing shortens as he picks up the pace, feeling her body starting to sway in the same rhythm. "Ylliria." He whispers several times.

"Oh... Robb... I..." She softly mouth. "I... What... Oh... Oh..." Her voice raises at the same time as her pleasure. "Ohhhhh... Gods..." She finally yells when her orgasm explodes, making Robb come too. "What have you done to me?" Ylliria asks, panting. "By the Gods, it felt like slowly dying."

He burst into laughter, letting himself fall on his back, breathing rapidly.

"What did I say that is so comical?" She gives him a gentle punch in his ribcage.

"Nothing, sweetheart." He wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer. "Nothing, I just feel happy. Really happy. Marvelously happy." He kisses her forehead.

She snuggles up into his arms, crossing his legs with one of hers.

"We'll marry on the morrow." Robb suddenly firmly alleges.

"You can't do that." She raises on one elbow to face him. "You gave your word to Lord Frey and should I remind Your Grace once again that I'm still married."

"No, you're not. It was never consumed. So, I already wrote the annulment and a Septon countersigned it."

"When did you do that?"

"Hum… A few weeks ago!" He grins.

"Oh, Robb." She sighs, smiling.

"What? I'm the King and my words are orders. We will be wed on the morrow, I say." He states with an imperious tone.

"I thought you wanted to be the good kind of King." She purrs.

"Marrying you is a decision coming from a good King." He tumbles her over, laying on top of her, stroking away some locks that crosses her face. "And I can't wait for the sun to rise."

"You are completely out of your mind, Your Grace." She softly laughs.

"Is that a proper way to speak to your King, My Lady?" He jests before devouring her mouth.

"Oh, Your Grace." She swoons as she feels his member hardening again against her thigh.

.


	80. Chapter 80

Chapter 80: Some White and a lot of Red

Jon and Satin were only gone for a little moment, to deal with the Wildlings that were trying to break in through the trapdoor, that everything has changed at the barricade below. A dozen black brothers and a few Mole Town's men were still standing atop the crates and barrels, trying to stop the Thenns from coming over. But, unfortunately they were slowly pushed back.

"They're breaking." Satin comes.

"I'm afraid they're already broken. The gate is lost." Jon sadly answers, pointing at what was happening. One villager suddenly drops his weapon and starts to flee, then another and then all of them are abandoning the position. The brothers alone are incapable to hold it any longer and are backing up too. Jon watches them trying to form a new defensive line a little further away, but the Wildlings easily wash them over with spears and axes. The only safety was on top of the Wall, seven hundred feet up the crooked wooden stairs.

"What Gods to you pray to?" Jon asks Satin.

"The Seven."

"Pray them and I'll pray to my old ones."

"Would that be of any help?"

"It wouldn't be of any harm." Jon shrugs, noticing that with all that hubbub he forgot his bow and to fill his quiver.

He limps back across the roof to get what he needs. The kettle did not move from where they'd left it, so at least they seem to be safe enough for the moment.

When he comes back, Satin was already sending quarrels at the Wildlings again and was ducking down behind the small wall to reload his crossbow as Jon had advised him.

"He may be a pretty boy, but he's quick." Jon thinks for himself with a half-smile.

The real battle has moved on the stairs now. The steps were shacking from the footsteps of the men running for their lives. Jon continuously fires arrows and has a guilty pleasure sensation each time he sees one of the Wildlings rolling down from a landing. But, it was only the three of them against sixty or seventy Thenns going up, drunk on victory. The brothers on the other towers were too far to reach them.

Suddenly the long sound of a warhorn resounds from the ninth landing where Donal Noye is standing. "Fetch the torches." Jon orders Satin that looks terrified again. "Hey, I'm scared too you know. But, we're safe here, all right?" He gently adds to comfort him. It is then that he spots Styr. The Magnar was climbing up the barricade, his bronze scale armor gleaming in the firelight. He had taken off his helm to admire the scene of his triumph and the bald earless whoreson was grinning. Jon hesitates to immediately pierce him with an arrow. "If I miss him, he could get out alive. Be patient, man." He tells himself when the green boy comes back with the torch. He changes his normal arrow for a fired one, passes it over the flame and waits for the signal. As soon as the second horn-blast shouts out, all the archers from every tower fire at the casks and sacks that Donal Noye had piled up beneath the steps. "Again." Jon encourages himself at each arrow he launches.

At the top of the stairs, another fire was slowly blooming. The old wooden steps were beforehand soaked with oil from the ninth to the seventh landing. Wind and fire were now doing the rest and all they have to do is watch the spectacle.

With flames below and above them, the Wildlings have nowhere to go. Some are continuing upward and died. Some are running down and died. Some stayed where they were and died. And many were leaping from the steps more afraid of the fire than the jump and they died too.

Suddenly the Wall starts to crack from the heat and the whole lower third of the stairs brake off, along with several tons of ice. That was the last Jon saw of Styr, the Magnar. All around them, brothers from the towers and people that were above the Wall starts to cheer. "It's over... The wall has defend itself." Jon softly says.

He asks Satin to help him down to the yard, his wounded leg hurting so badly that he was incapable to walk alone. "And bring the torch. I need to look for someone."

.

In sign of respect, Robb decides to advise his mother, still in house arrest in her tent, about his decision to marry Ylliria at sundown.

"Walder Frey is a dangerous man to cross, Robb." Catelyn gently warns him.

"I know that."

"And you mean to do it anyway?"

"I will find another way to please Lord Walder for his generous gifts... War if far from over and any men, whatsoever his temper, at a certain point will agree to sit around the negotiating table."

"What will you be able to negotiate? You need him more than he needs you."

He stares at her for a moment. "It's Ylliria that I need more than anybody else, mother... I love her and won't leave her, not again."

"I know that Ylliria seems important to you. And I would have gladly approved it in other circumstances."

"Seems? She is important to me, period!... And I don't ask nor need your approval, mother."

Lady Catelyn heavily sighs. "And what about her marriage with Theon?"

"It's already annulled."

"So quickly?"

"I made it annulled weeks ago."

"Weeks?... It's for weeks that you both are playing that game." She comes in a reproachful tone.

"What game are you talking about?"

"Pretending like nothing was happening between the two of you."

"Nothing happened since... Since yesterday evening." He lowers his gaze on the floor.

"But, you had already the intention to have her back, didn't you?"

"I... I never stopped... Did you ever felt a love so strong and so true that you can't think of anything else?" He asks his mother.

"You are young and your heart is in a flutter for the first time. I understand that, but..." She smiles. "Your father didn't love me when we married. He hardly knew me or I, him. Love didn't just happen to us. We build it slowly over the years, stone by stone. For you, for your brothers and sisters, for all of us. I know, it is not as exciting as a secret passion in the woods."

"What Ylliria and I have, is not a wild secret passion that will pass by as quickly as it came. It's more serious than you think."

"Building a relationship over the years is stronger. It last longer."

"Oh... And that is what is in store for me with one of the Frey daughters, huh? You want me to have what you and father had?"

"Why not? Because she's not as beautiful or exciting as Ylliria?"

"Now you're arguing just to argue, just because you arranged it."

"And you agreed to it..."

"And that was my biggest mistake!" He yells.

"You gave Lord Frey your word, Robb. Treat your oaths recklessly and your people will do the same. If your father lived this life for one thing..."

"Father is dead, mother!" He cuts her. "And the only parent I have left has lost the right to call anyone reckless. I came to see you in a sign of respect to my mother. But, my decision is firm and final." He briskly stands up and leaves the tent.

.

At Castle Black, Jon wanders through the dark yard with his crutch under one arm and the other around Satin's shoulders. The stables and the common hall were completely burned down. But the fire is still raging along the Wall, climbing step by step to the last landing. The air was full of ash and ice crystals. He finally finds Ygrid laying in the snow beneath Lord Commander's Tower, an arrow between her breasts. When he kneels beside her, she opens her eyes. "Jon Snow." She whispers. "Is this a proper castle now? Not just a tower?"

"It is." Jon grabs her hand.

"Good, I wanted to see one proper castle, before I…" She softly says.

"The battle's over. Maester Aemon will see to you. He will draw that arrow out and patch you up and we'll get you some milk of the poppy for the pain."

She just smiles at that.

"You're not going to die, Ygrid. You're not." He sadly comes.

"Avow me one thing, Jon Snow. Were you thinking about her each time we played together?"

"Who?"

"To your Lady with the same hair and the same voice as me."

"Don't say that."

"I knew, the whole time… I didn't mind… I'm a free woman and had my pleasure too. And I'll be happy when I'll see you two play together from above… Soon." She lightly smiles.

"Don't be so sure... From what some told me here, Ylliria might well be dead."

"No, she ain't… She's alive, I can feel it in my bones… You really know nothing, Jon Snow." She sighs, slowly closing her eyes, letting out one last breath.

"How much life must you take away from me for that bloody oath I swear, huh?" He angrily asks the Gods, his head up to the dark starless sky.

.

While Robb is discussing with his mother, Ylliria decided to go to the Sister's quarters to advise Mother Clarise about the latest events. "You and Lady Westerling were right! And I am the most stupidest and stubborn person ever!" She says, grabbing Mother Clarise in her arms.

"So, finally I will get rid of you! About bloody time!" The Mother jests. "Now seriously, you just made your old Mother very proud. I wish you all happiness and a lot of beautiful and healthy sweet little babies." She hugs her back. "Oh dear, that also mean you'll be Queen now!"

"I don't know about that. And to tell you the truth, I really don't care. I just want to be with him."

"I will miss you, my child." She suddenly grabs a tissue from her gown and wipes off her tears.

"Oh Mother, please don't cry. I will stay around. I come visit as often as I can."

"If the Host is not dismantled. I hear rumors about it."

"And if it was so, where will you go?"

"Well, we'll go back to our Cloister. This war has made a lot of people in need that are wondering along the roads. They need help and care too. We will never be out of work, my Child."

"And I will never abandon this Order. I will continue to be your spokesperson. I will make the same promise that the King did you when we arrived here. Anything you need, will be provided to you, Mother."

"I know you will do all those things, my child." Mother Clarise surrounds Ylliria's face with her hands. "Be blessed, you and the King." She kisses her forehead.

"Thank you, Mother." The young woman curtseys.

"Go now. The King must certainly wait for you."

"Before I go, I just want to say my goodbyes to Eva, Gisela and the Sisters." She takes Mother Clarise one last time in her arms. "I love you, Mother."

"I love you too, my child."

.


	81. Chapter 81

Chapter 81: The Wall is yours!

At midnight in front of a Weirwood, a Septon celebrates the wedding in front of only a small group of person that Robb had chosen carefully. He is wearing the colors of House Stark and Ylliria, as promised, the Ivory gown Lady Westerling had given her. Just behind them, Grey-Wind the Direwolf calmly sits, like it was mounting guard.

The ceremony passes as in a dream, starting with some prayers and singing, the only light coming from two tall candles burning on each side of the bride and groom.

"In the light of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls." The Septon ties up Robb and Ylliria's intertwined hands with a large ribbon. "Binding them has one for eternity." He closes his own hands around theirs. "Look upon one another now and say your words and promises."

The couple faces each other and starts to recite. "Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Grown, Stranger. I'm hers and she's mine. I'm his and he's mine. From this day and till the end of my days."

Robb unfastens his cloak and puts it around Ylliria's shoulders in sign of accepting here in his family. He then gently slides a hand behind her neck to kiss her. "With this kiss I pledge you my love and take you for my Queen, my Lady and my wife." He softly comes.

They exchange another embrace. "With this kiss I pledge you my love and take you for my King, my Lord and my husband." She shyly repeats.

"Here in the sight of Gods and men, I do solemnly proclaim Robb of House Stark and Ylliria of House Bennett to be man and wife; one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever. And cursed be the one who comes between them." The Septon closes the ceremony and the witnesses start to clap in their hands and congratulate the newlyweds.

"What did we do?" She asks her husband on their way back to their tent.

"What I should have done months ago." He smiles. "Never leave me again, Ylliria." He takes her back in his arms to kiss her again.

"Ahum…" Lord Umber gently comes.

"Oh, yes… My pardons, My Lords." Robb smiles. "Let us celebrate!"

.

The cell is dark and the bed hard beneath him. Even under the furs, Jon is cold. "Ghost, where are you?" He softly says still half asleep when he hears the horn blowing a first long and deep blast; followed by a second one. He has to get up and go to the Wall, he knows, but it seems so hard to do it today; harder than any day he ever knew. He feels so empty inside; all those people he cared about, he loved or befriend with have been ripped away from him, carving those big holes in his soul. He finally shoves aside his pelts and sits on the edge of the bed, holding his head between his hands. The pain in his leg seems duller, but that was maybe because other fresher wounds were open. He takes out some clean breeches from his trunk when a little wooden square falls from it. He grabs it and instantly recognizes the object. "Oh Gods..." He delicately opens it and looks at the portrait inside. "Ylliria... Is this a sign from the Old Gods telling me you are still alive?" He whispers, his eyes slowly moistening. When the horn blows once more its two long blasts, he dresses up quickly, putting the portrait in his inner pocket. He slings Longclaw over one shoulder, finds his crutch and rapidly hobbles down the steps.

It was still dark outside and bitter cold. His brothers were spilling out of towers and keeps, buckling their sword-belts and walking toward the Wall. "It is Mance. He has come at last." Jon thinks for himself. "We will fight this last battle and then we'll rest. Alive or dead, we'll finally rest." He sighs.

Where the stairs were rising up the Wall, only an immense tangle of charred wood and broken ice remained. Only the winch was bringing men up now, ten by ten at a time. It was on its way up when Jon arrives. He rejoins the others that were already waiting in line; Satin, Deaf Dick Follard, Mully, Spare Boot with his peg leg and big blond Hareth, one of the few from Mole's Town that stayed after the first attack and that everyone call 'horse' because he was a stableman there. Clydas, Maester Aemon's Stewart, was distributing cups of hot warm wine, while Three-Finger Hobb the cook passes out chunks of black bread.

"Is it Mance Rayder?" Satin anxiously asks.

"We can hope so. There are worse things than Wildlings behind this Wall, you know." Jon answers.

Finally, the cage comes back down, swaying at the end of the long chain. They silently crowd in; Mully closes the door and yanks the bell rope three times. A moment later, the winch begins to rise.

At the top, Hareth gives Jon a hand down onto the ice ground. A line of fires are burning along the way and bundles of quarrels, arrows, spears and catapult bolts are standing ready in every corner. And at each intersection, ten feet high piles of rocks and big wooden barrels of tar and lamp oil are waiting to be thrown over the Wall.

.

Due to the war situation, the wedding feast has been reduced to a simple supper in the King's tent surrounded by his most loyal Bannermen.

"Where is your Lady Mother?" Ylliria murmurs, sitting on Robb's right side.

"Still in house arrest."

"Couldn't you make an exception for this supper?" She pleads.

"I'm sorry, Sweetheart." He gently kisses her hand. "I can't allow it with all my Lords around. They would not understand my sudden clemency after what my mother did. She is still accused of treason."

"I would have loved to have her on our wedding day. She already missed the ceremony."

"I know. But, I promise you that we will have other occasions to have her with us. I will make an announcement during supper concerning some decisions I took."

Ylliria has no intention to argue with him, especially not tonight. So, she just nods.

"My Lords." Robb rises from his throne-chair, a cup of wine in his hands. "This special occasion gives me the opportunity to tell you how honored I feel to have you all by my side and to celebrate your courage and your values. The North may be proud to have such men on its lands. I might not always have made wise choices, forgive my youth, but I know I can count on you, that I can lean on you in those difficult times. We have won many battles, but the war is still on our heels. And now, more than ever, I will need your wise council. For now, I just want to thank you all and to accept the Lady Ylliria as part of my life today and for all days to come. I will not impose you to take her for your Queen, just to respect her as my beloved wife." He turns towards her and smiles.

The Lords around the table all raise their wine-cups and starts to shout. "Winterfell! Winterfell!"

"Your Grace." Lord Umber calls when the silence falls again. "I think I may speak for all of us here around this table." He give a look to the others, asking for approval. "Even if the circumstances were unusual and some details still have to be discussed; let me tell you that you could not have make a better choice for a spouse. Lady Ylliria's reputation and value is not to be questioned. She has proven to many of us her courage and her dedication. Our soldiers love her, for sure. So, you don't have to worry, Your Grace. Today is a day to rejoice. The North has won a Queen!"

"AYE! Long live the King and the Queen of the North!" The others cheer again.

"My Lords, I do not know what to say, afraid that my words would seem too weak to match your marks of affection." Ylliria gently says. "And I don't know what being a Queen exactly means. I have still so much to learn and I hope I can count on you to counsel me as well. From the bottom of my heart, I humbly thank you." She puts her hands on her heart and lightly bows. "All my power will be dedicated to the service of the North. I will do everything I can, till my last breath, to help the King and you, My Lords, to restore peace in the Seven Kingdoms. My most fervent wish is that we could all go home, to our families and friends, safely and soon."

"AYE! Winterfell! Winterfell!" The others all shouts back at her.

"Very sweet words, My Love. A real Queen talking." Robb gently tells her, kissing her on the cheek. "Enough speeches. By the Gods, let's eat!" He orders to the squires to bring the first courses.

.

The wind was whipping the black cloaks of the scarecrow sentinels who were standing along the ramparts of the Wall, spears in hand. "I hope it wasn't one of them who blew the horn." Jon tells Noye with a smile when he limps up beside him, making the old man smirking.

"Did you hear that? That was not a horn." Donal suddenly comes.

"No, that was a mammoth." Jon answers.

"How do we fight them if we can't see them?" Hareth complains.

"Your Grace will certainly be pleased in a minute." Donal Noye jests and turns toward the two great trebuchets. "Give us some light down there, lads! King Hareth commands it!" He roars. Barrels of tar are hastily loaded into the slings and set afire with a torch. The counterweights instantly plunge downward, the burning tar tumbling through the darkness, casting a sparking light upon the ground. They hear a Giant roaring something in the Old Tongue.

Jon could just catch a glimpse of mammoths moving through the half-light and disappearing just as quickly. "A dozen, maybe more, not sure." He says.

"Again!" Noye shouts. Two more barrels fly through the gloom and crash down amongst the foes. This time one of them has strike a dead tree, enveloping it with flames.

"By the Gods… There are a hundred! He brought them all here, all the ones I saw with Tormund. Mance will attack with all his force at once." Jon exclaims.

Red Alyn sounds his horn once more, two long 'ahooo's'. This time, the Wildlings answer him, not with one horn but with a dozen and with drums and pipes as well. By now, the trebuchets are creaking and thumping and the barrels flying nonstop. Behind the Giants and the mammoths, Jon sees men moving forward to the Wall with bows and axes.

"The Gate!" Pyp cried out. "They are coming for the Gate!"

The Wall is too big to be stormed by any conventional means; too high for ladders or siege towers, too thick for battering rams; no catapult can throw a stone large enough to breach it and if you try to set it on fire, the melting ice would quench the flames. "They will have to take the Gate or they won't pass." Jon thinks aloud.

The Gate is a crooked tunnel through the ice, smaller than any castle gate, so narrow that rangers have to lead their horses through a single file. Three thick iron portals are closing the inner passage, each locked and chained. The outer door is old oak, nine inches thick and studded with iron.

"Must be so cold down there." Noye guffaws. "Do you think we can warm them up a bit, huh?"

About ten jars of lamp oil are placed in front of the precipice. Pyp runs down the line with a torch, setting them alight while Deaf Dick Follard just behind him is shoving them one by one over the edge.

"Where are my bloody archers?" Donal looks around.

"Here." Satin speaks up.

"And here." Mully raising his hand. "But how can I find a target? It's black as the inside of a pig's arse."

"Oh, Mully, you just sound like an old wench!" Noye points north. "If you loose enough arrows, might be you'll find a few. At least you'll make them fretful." He turns around to the other men. "I need two bows and two spears to help me hold the tunnel if they break the Gate. Jon, you have the Wall till I return." He orders.

"My Lord?" Jon asks, thinking he had misheard the command.

"Lord? I'm a bloody blacksmith! I said the Wall is yours, Snow!"

"Aye." He just manages to say.

.


	82. Chapter 82

Chapter 82: Return to Riverrun.

Under the warm pelts of their bed, Ylliria huddles in Robb's arms after their lovemaking.

"Robb, I'd like to plead once again for your mother. It is now more than two weeks that she is confined in her tent, all alone. Allow me at least to visit her sometimes, keeping her company." She gently asks.

"Sweetheart, I already told you that I can't allow anybody to see her for the moment. And she may think herself lucky that I didn't put her in a cage-cell amongst other prisoners."

"Robb, it's your mother we are talking about." She protests.

"In the eyes of my Lords, she is a traitor. Another person would already passed trial and probably put to death. Our situation is already fairly precarious as it is. Some have requested me permission to leave the Host and return North, to fight against the Ironmen that seized their lands and castle. I can't blame them. I've the same urge to run back to Winterfell and recover Bran and Rickon." He calmly explains.

"So, you think this war is lost for the North?"

"I don't know… Really, it's for days that I am gluing my eyes on the map in quest of a solution. But, for any plan I build up, someone somewhere is losing something. So, signing peace with any part is out of the question."

"What are you going to do then? We can't stay at camp here forever."

"You're right on that. That is why, at this morning council, I proposed to my Lords to abandon the West, marching back to Riverrun and regroup there. A castle is more defensible than an open field. And from there, little by little, rebuild an army, find an appropriate proposal to appease Lord Frey, get revenge on the Greyjoys, take back the North and Winterfell and hoping that all this will settle down peace over the Seven Kingdoms." He pulls her closer to him. "But, that's just a gigantic pious wish."

"And what did the Lords decide?"

"I gave them a day to think about it and give me their decision on the morrow."

"It sounds a reasonable plan to me." She seriously says, kissing his cheek.

"Oh you, Wise-muzzle!" He softly laughs, taking her nose between two fingers. "And when we will be back at Riverrun, we will have a proper Wedding feast and a Sacrament worthy of the name."

"Don't feel obliged to do so, My Love. I don't need all those honors. I'm already in shock to hear your Lords calling me 'Your Grace'." She caresses his face, plunging into his soft green eyes she likes so much. "I just want to be with you. And stay in a role to support you all I can." She whispers, approaching her head and kissing him deeply.

.

"The Wall is mine." Jon repeats endlessly while all of them are launching with half-frozen hands hundreds of arrows and quarrels to the Wildling attacking the gate. The mammoths are trumpeting in the gloom, strange voices calling out in the Old tongue. They witness a mammoth in flames running back to the woods and trampling down men and trees during his mad race. It seems that the wind blows colder and colder too. Hobb walks up the chain with cups of onion broth, so the archers can gulp them down between arrows.

Donal Noye and the ones that followed him down to hold the tunnel never return up the Wall. "The Wall is mine." Jon reminds himself again whenever he feels his strength abandoning him. His fingers are completely stiff, handling his longbow. His fever was back as well and his leg was uncontrollably trembling, sending shots of pain in his whole body. "One more arrow and then I'll rest for a while." He is telling himself for half a hundred times already. "Just one more." whenever his quiver was empty, someone always brought him another one. "One more quiver and I'll stop. It can't be that much longer until dawn." He wonders.

And when morning finally slowly rises, Jon was still shooting his arrows. Daylight is giving him the chance to look over the half-mile swath of open land that stretches between the Wall and the edge of the forest. In half a night, they had turned it into a wasteland of burned grass, bubbling tar, shattered stones and corpses. The carcass of a mammoth at the foot of the Wall is already covered with starving crows. Behind the trees, all the Wildlings that Mance has gathered are waiting for the orders on their next assault.

The previous battle against the Magnar and this night-fight on top of the Wall were nothing, Jon realizes. The real battle will only begin now and he feels so tired, frozen and feverish, even the weight of his longbow is too much to bear.

"I never knew there would be so many." Satin says. "Look! Here they move again." His voice suddenly going up an octave. A hundred mammoths with giants on their backs are centering a Wildling line, all armed with mauls and stone axes. More giants are running beside them, pushing along a huge tree trunk on great wooden wheels; its end sharpened into a point.

"They've build a bloody ram." Jon whispers. "If the gate below is still standing, a few kisses of this thing will soon turn it into splinters." He comments. Behind the mammoths, stands a wave of horsemen in boiled leather harness and Wildlings on foot. As soon as they start to blow their horns or beat their drums, Jon feels the despair falling onto the men all around him.

"There must be a hundred thousand." Satin wails. "How can we stop so many?"

"The Wall will stop them." Jon replies. "The Wall always defends itself." He repeats louder, facing all his Brothers. "Mance wants to unman us with his numbers. Does he think we're that scared?" He raises his voice a little higher, making men listening to him. "The chariots, the horsemen, all those fools on foot... What are they going to do to us up here, huh? Does anyone of you ever see a mammoth climbing an iced wall?" He bursts into laughter, carrying Pyp and half a dozen more with him. "They are nothing!" He shouts. "Our straw brothers here have more use than them." He slaps one of them on the head to mark his point. "Those Wildlings, those monsters, they can't reach us. They can't hurt us and they certainly don't frighten us, do they?"

"NO!" Grenn shouts.

"They are down there and we are nicely set up here." Jon hobbles along the line of men, his pain suddenly forgotten. "And so long as we hold our Gate below, they can't nor won't pass!"

At the end of Jon's speech, they are all shouting and cheering, waving swords and longbows in the air. Jon sees Kegs with a warhorn hanging around his shoulder. "Brother, sound for battle! High and clear!" He orders him and Kegs blows the two long blasts for Wildlings.

"Archers, you aim for the Giants with that ram, every bloody one of you. Loose at my command only. Wait for my signal. THE GIANTS AND THE RAM!" He yells as loud as he can. "As soon as they are in range, I want arrows raining on them like a bloody storm. Any man that I see wasting an arrow or missing his target, will have to run down and fetch it back, is that understood? At my command, do you hear me?"

"I do hear you, Lord Snow." Deaf Dick Follard suddenly comes with a wide smile on his face.

That makes Jon laugh like a madman and all his men with him.

.

The tents of Robb's encampment are disappearing one by one from the field; the soldiers putting away all the material and loading dozens of wagons. The camp followers are already along the road, heading East to Riverrun.

The King and his new Queen are gathering together all the maps, books and messages and put them in different trunks. One of them with a heavy padlock on both its sides is only carrying the most valuable and secret documents.

Grey-wind, still at their side, suddenly pricks its ears up and lets out a soft growl when the door-flap of their tent briskly flies open. "Your Graces, my pardons to burst in like this." Lord Bolton comes, out of breath. "But, the Freys have left the Host."

"All of them?" Robb angrily asks.

"I'm afraid so. Perwyn Frey, Martyn Rivers, the bastard and all their men, all gone. I suppose, they must have left during the night, letting behind all their belongings and material."

"It was to be expected. Let them run back to the Twins..."

Lord Bolton was about to retort.

"Thank you, My Lord." The King cuts him.

"Your Graces." He bows and leaves the place.

"How many men were in the Frey's contingent?" Ylliria asks him when they were alone again.

"Three thousand." He softly answers, leaning with his fists on the table.

She approaches him, gently caressing his hair. "I'm sorry to aggravate our already precarious situation, my Love."

"It's not your fault, Sweetheart." He looks in her eyes and softly kisses her lips. "I brought this upon us. And I will clear us out of it. But, not here and not now." He grabs another stack of rolls and puts them in a trunk, silently requesting Ylliria to continue to pack as well.

The next morning, Robb, Ylliria and his entourage are ready to take the road. Robb had decide that Ylliria, his still faithful Lords and a small group of soldiers for protection will travel on horses to reach Riverrun as quickly as possible, not waiting for their material and personal belongings.

"And your mother?" Ylliria softly asks before rejoining her horse.

"She will be escorted by some of my personal guards. I don't want her near any of my Lords. Not that I don't trust them, but it would be taken for another insult. And I have already made enough of that." He replies, just before mounting his own battle steed.

.

"Load the trebuchet with four-headed nails." Jon orders, feeling totally at ease with his new command duties. "Dick and Kegs angle the catapults toward the center, load them with fire spears and loose at my command." He points at some others who he does not know their names. "You, you and you, stand by with torches."

The Wildling archers were constantly shooting arrows, all falling miserably short of at least a hundred feet.

Jon positions himself on a spot where he has an overall view of the battlefield. "Wait... Hold... Closer... Draw..." He lifts his own bow and pulls the arrow to his ear with all the others. He was close watching the ram slowly approaching, the mammoths and giants still on either side. "Just a few steps more... And... LOOSE!" He finally yells, the black arrows hissing downward. Jon did not wait to see where it landed; he reaches for a second arrow as soon as the first left his bow. "NOTCH! DRAW! LOOSE!" He encourages the men. "Catapults and bowmen, loose at will." He calls.

Panic is starting amongst the mammoths, spilling their giants on the ground, and crushing and stomping all what was in their way. The ram suddenly stops moving in the middle of the open land before the Wall; the men that were pushing it all dead or dying. "Fire arrows! I want that ram burning!" Jon orders. The screams of wounded mammoths and the booming cries of giants mingled with the drums and pipes are making an awful music. "Brothers! Fire at will!" He barks. "Pyp, Grenn." He points at the barrels of oil.

Grenn rolls a first one to the edge of the Wall. Pyp hammers out the plug that seals it, stuffs in a twist of cloth, lights it with a torch and with Grenn helping hand tips it over. A hundred feet below it bursts into pieces, filling the air with splinters of wood and burning oil. Grenn already rolls another barrel in front of the precipice, Kegs closely following him with a second one and Pyp lighting them both. And on and on the killing barrels are cascading down the Wall.

Again the mammoths are running away from the smoke and the flames, smashing into those behind them in their terror and the giants and Wildlings trying to get out of their way. In half a heartbeat, the whole center of the attack collapses. The horsemen that were on the flanks, seeing that they were abandoned, decide to go back as well. The drums and horns suddenly going silent.

"Is anyone hurt?" Jon asks around.

"One of those bloody buggers got my leg." Spare boot, one of Castle Black's builders, plucks the arrow out and waved it above his head. "Only they got the wrong one!" He shows the hole in his peg leg, making the men guffaws.

All of a sudden, Jon feels too weary to stand; his leg was agony from knee to groin. He fumbles for his crutch. "Pyp, help me to the cage. Grenn, you have the Wall." He calls.

"Me?" Grenn asks, abash. "Him?" Pyp comes in the same time. It was hard to tell which of them was more horrified of the two. "But?" Grenn stammers. "B-but what do I do if the Wildlings are coming back?"

"Well, you stop them!" Jon simply tells him.

As they ride down in the cage, Pyp takes off his helm. "Gods, I don't think I have ever been so hungry in my life. I could eat a whole Aurochs, I swear it. Do you think Hobb could cook up Grenn for us?" When he turns towards Jon and sees his face, his smile disappears. "What's wrong?"

"My leg." He winces. "I want a fire, a hot meal, a warm bed and something to make my leg stop hurting." He complains to his friend.

"We'll get that for you, Jon. We're nearly down."

"Thank you. But first, I have to check the tunnel and find what happened to Donal Noye and his men."

.


	83. Chapter 83

Chapter 83: The Edict

Once back at Riverrun, Castle of the Tully's - Lady Catelyn's family - and before any other matter would be handled, the King insists to have an official coronation to introduce Ylliria as rightful Queen of the North.

The Great Hall of the Castle is prepared for the event, a dais is assembled covered with tapestry showing the Tully's, the Stark's and the Bennett's families Sigils side by side. A second throne, just a little smaller than the King's one, was ordered to the local carpenter. Robb has written an Edict, signed by all his Higher Lords, to give Ylliria all lawful rights. He has also request to the local craftsman to make her a Crown, made in the same shape and metals than his; a bronze circlet with black iron spikes all around.

Ylliria is making herself ready in her quarters with the help of two new maids that have been appointed to her personal household. Robb has been over generous towards her; when she was visiting her new apartments, three huge trunks of new gowns, underclothing, accessories, cloaks and coats, furs and jewelry were waiting for her in the bedroom. She wondered when he had found the time to prepare and gathered all those things while they were riding back to Riverrun, and in the right size too. He just smiled at her request and kissed her to silence.

"Too much choice is a waste of time." She jests to her maids, looking at the pile of dresses lying across the bed.

She finally decides to wear her husband House's colors; a mix of dark and light-gray gown with white fur as collar and sleeve borders; and a short train. Her dark-red hair hangs loose along her back except for a braid that circles around her head. A simple silver necklace with an Onyx stone in the middle finishes her outfit.

"Your Grace." A young woman, entering the room, deeply curtseys. "Lady Stark and Lord Tully are here to see you."

"Please, let them in." Ylliria urges her. She gives herself a last look in the metal long mirror and goes to her main-room. "My Lady, I am so pleased you will be with us tonight." She gently takes Lady Catelyn's hands in hers.

"The King has granted me that, on exceptionally basis." The Lady smiles. "Thank you for pleading in my favor."

"I wouldn't and couldn't do this without you on my side, My Lady." She turns toward the men next to Lady Catelyn. "My Lord." She bows her head. "It is an honor for me to finally meet you." She says to Lady Stark's older brother.

"And it is an honor for me to count such a beautiful Queen amongst our family." Edmure kisses both her cheeks, as the etiquette requests. "You are shaking, Your Grace. Are you feeling all right?"

"Oh yes, I am fine. Just a little nervous… All right, a lot nervous." She tries to joke. "I was not born for this and I am afraid to make a blunder or say something wrong in front of everybody." She chuckles.

"Everything will be fine, Your Grace." Lady Catelyn comforts her. "It is only a small ceremony. And you only have friends in this castle, I can promise you that."

"Thank you, My Lady. It's best we go now. I think it's time."

"Will you make me the honors?" Lord Edmure says, offering his arm.

.

Jon leans on the wall aside the Iron Gate waiting for Pyp to get from Maester Aemon the spare key. Surprisingly, the Maester himself returns with him, following by Clydas holding a lantern. "When we are done here, you will accompany me back to my quarters." Maester Aemon tells the young man in pain while Pyp fumbles with the chains. "I need to change your dressing and apply a fresh cataplasm on your wound. Do you request some more dreamwine for the pain?"

Jon nods weakly and the door finally swings open.

The ice walls are pressing close around them and the cold is slowly seeping through their clothing and into their bones. Pyp unlocks the second Iron Gate. They walk a little farther till they glimpse the diffuse light from the end of the tunnel. "There's blood on the floor." Jon says.

It is in the last twenty feet that they finally find the bodies of Noye and his men. The outer door of studded oak was hacked and broken. The lantern's feeble light was drawing hideous shadows on the walls, making Pyp turn aside to retch and Jon suddenly envying Maester Aemon blindness. The scene was clear enough to imagine what happened. A dozen quarrels were shot before the spears entered in the game to stab through the bars, still one of the giant found the strength to reach through, seizing the iron gate and wrenching the bars apart.

"Are they all dead?" Maester Aemon softly asks.

"Yes, Maester… And Donal was the last, it seems. Noye's sword is still buried deep in the throat of the giant that crushed his spine. But, I can't say who died first." Jon explains to the old man. He suddenly feels the need of sunlight on his face. It is too cold and too dark inside this tunnel and the stench of blood and death is starting to suffocate him. Jon gives the lantern back to Clydas, circling around the bodies and through the twisted bars. He nearly runs toward the daylight to see what is lying beyond the splintered door. The horror he discovers there is nearly worse that what he has found inside. Anyways, he slowly takes deep breaths to get rid of the nauseous feeling before rejoining the others back inside. "We need to repair the outer gate as best we can and then block up this section of the tunnel." He explains in a firm tone. "Rubble, chunks of ice, anything we can gathered. And all the way to the second gate, if we have enough time. Sir Wynton needs to take command. He is the last Knight left at Castle Black. But, he needs to move now. The giants will be back before we know it. We have to tell him..."

"Tell him what you want, Jon." Maester Aemon briskly cuts him. "He will simply smile, nod and forget what you said the minute your turn your back. You know that as well as Donal Noye did."

"Well, you give the order, then. You have been on the Wall your whole life. The men will listen to you and follow your command. We have to close this gate." Jon insists.

"I am a Maester chained and sworn. My order serves, Jon. We give counsel, not commands."

"But, someone must..."

"Aye. And that someone is You, Jon... You must lead."

"No. I'm not empowered..." The young man shakes his head.

"Yes, you already are, Jon. Look what you did up the Wall. The men are listening to you now. And, it just temporary, till Marsh Bowen and his garrison returns."

"Maester, I can't... I'm tired; my leg is giving me hell..."

"Jon." The Maester puts a hand on his shoulder. "Donal chose you and Qhorin Halfhand before him. Lord Commander Mormont made you his steward. You are a son of Winterfell, our protectors. It must be you or no one else. The Wall is still yours, Jon Snow."

.

Drums and horns are welcoming Ylliria's entrance in the Great Hall, at the arm of Lord Edmure Tully. He guides her towards the dais where Robb, in ceremonial regalia, already waits for her. He bows to the Lord before accepting her offered hand and leads her to her new seat.

"Don't be afraid, My Love. Everything will go fine." He whispers in her ear as he feels her trembling. Like for their wedding, Robb surrounds Ylliria's shoulders with his cloak in the colors of House Stark. He turns towards the people, unrolls the large parchment that he took from his seat and waits till silence falls over the Hall.

"By this Edict, I, Robb of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and King of the North, sound in body and mind, hereby proclaim Ylliria of House Bennett, Lady of Garrymount, truly wedded before Gods and men, become at this day and till the end of her days, Queen of the North." He proclames with a strong voice. "The Queen is empowered to reign over the Realm of the North during the King's absences or in the impediment to reign himself. The Queen will be named Regent in case of the King would decease and/or an heir would not be of age to reign over the Realm of the North. The widowed Queen might choose a new husband at her own will. He will be named Consort awhile the Queen beholds her title. All the children born from this new wedding will not be named as heir unless no children have been procreated in natural descent of Stark's blood or any of them have survived. The children from this second bed will be named Lords and Ladies of lands chosen at the Queen discretion." He gives the roll to Ylliria, takes the crown that Lord Umber is presenting him and gently puts it on her forehead, the horns loudly blowing again while all the guests start to cheer and shout. Ylliria seems completely lost. She still holds the parchment in front of her, not daring to move afraid the crown might fall from her head. Robb softly kisses her on the cheek and helps her to sit down on her chair with a reassuring smile.

"Do I have to say or do something?" She finally managed to whisper to him.

"No. Not for now, My Queen." He kisses her hand. "But, I still have things to say, though." He turns to face the assembly, asking for silence in the Hall again. "My Lords, My Ladies and My dear guests. First of all, I would like to thank Lord Edmure Tully to have taking our Host in and let us have use of his castle as our new settlement for the Army of the North." He bows his head towards Lord Edmure that responds to him the same way. "One of my first and main concerns is to have our men and women safe and find the best way possible to recover peace in our Realm. As you might all know, the Seven Kingdoms has exploded and Kings have rose from every corner. I am not the kind of King that wants to conquer every yard of land. Like I promised you, all I want if for the North to be free of any dominion. And for now, the North is in foreign hands. We need to regroup our forces and plan our attacks to throw out the foes that are right now sitting in our chairs."

"Aye!" Some are shouting.

"Therefore, I have named a small council to help and to advise me the best way to win back our lands." Robb opens another roll of paper. "Lord Edmure Tully is named Hand of the King. Lord Jon Umber, as Master of Laws and Justice. And Lord Roose Bolton, as Commander-in-chief of the Army of the North. So have I spoken." He finishes his speech under thunderous applause and shouts of 'Long live the King and Queen of the North!'

"It is time now that we all drink and feast." Robb smiles, gesturing to the maids already waiting at the door, holding trays of cups filled with wine.

Lady Catelyn approaches. "I have a new daughter. Be welcome to our hall and hearth." She kisses Ylliria on both cheeks, as she has said the appropriate words to officially accept her in the House Stark. "It sounds strange to say those words since I always considered you as a daughter." She smiles.

"Thank you, My Lady." Ylliria holding Catelyn's hand. "I shall be a good and true wife for Robb, I promise to you. And as wise a Queen as I can be."

"I have full trust in you, my child." Catelyn has a glance at her son that was staring at his wife with soft eyes and a large smile. "He loves her, no doubt." She comments for herself. "I will have to call you 'Your Grace' now." She turns back toward Ylliria.

"Oh please don't, My Lady." The young woman smiles. "I hope you'll still call me and consider me as Ylliria."

"Only as you call me mother."

"And myself, Nuncle." Lord Edmure comes in a low voice. "Your Grace, you are the luckiest man alive!" He hugs is nephew. "Do you have any sister I may wed?" He jests, asking Ylliria.

"I'm afraid not and I'm really sorry about it now." She laughs, while receiving the dutiful kisses from her now uncle. "I read a book once from an old Maester, though. And it was saying that we all have seven twins around the whole wide world. Might we could find one of my look-alikes for you, Uncle." She says.

"Ylliria makes him smile." Lady Catelyn thinks for herself again, looking at her son. "It's a blessing to hear him laugh like the boy he was. To the others he always must act as the King of the North. At least, he may share a part of the weight of the crown now."

.


	84. Chapter 84

Chapter 84: When justice is spoken.

The small feast is still ongoing in the Great Hall of Riverrun when Lady Catelyn requests her son to have a talk alone with him. Robb leads his mother to his private audience chamber; a small room above the Hall, better suited to intimate discussions.

He takes the high seat, removes his crown and sets it on the table in front of him. "So, what does my mother require from me that could not wait the end of day?" He asks her brisker that we have wanted.

"Important matters... You have lost the Freys for good, now that you have officially enthroned Ylliria as your Queen." Catelyn says, pouring some cups of wine.

"I am not going to have this discussion over and over again, mother." He sighs. "I will find a way to compensate the old sod. I'm already preparing a new proposal for Lord Frey. But, I'm sure when he'll meet Ylliria, he'll sweeten. She always has that particular way with people. After a few minutes, they all love her. Look what she did with my Captains and soldiers."

"I'm afraid all her love and goodwill will not appease the old Walder. You have done House Frey a grievous insult, Robb."

"I never meant to. I made a big mistake and I'm sorry... How many times do I have to say it!"

"You don't have to convince me of your sincerity. But, the Freys can be very dangerous."

"I know, the Greatjon urges me to attack them before they attack us."

"Fighting your own in the midst of your enemies? That will be the end of you." She warns him.

"Aye, I told Umber the same. I thought perhaps we could arrange other matches for Lord Frey's daughters. Sir Wendel Manderly has offered to take one and the Greatjon tells me his uncles wish to wed again. If Lord Frey will be reasonable…"

"The Old Frey is a lot of things, but reasonable is not one of them." His mother cuts him. "He is proud and prickly to a fault. You know that. He wants to be the grandfather to a future King. You will not appease him with the offer of two old brigands and the second son of the fattest man in the Seven Kingdoms. Not only have you broken your oath, but you've slighted the honor of the Twins by choosing a bride from a lesser house."

"Now, I understand why you didn't want Ylliria in this discussion." He angrily says. "The Bennetts are from better blood than the Freys. Do I have to remind you of your history classes, mother? House Bennett is from a very ancient line, descended from the First men. One of Ylliria's great-great-great-grandmother was Queen to King Maegor the Great."

"Which will only salt Lord Walder's wounds a little more. It always irks him that older houses look down on the Freys as upstarts. Our insult is not the first he bears. Back in the days, Jon Arryn has declined to foster two of his grandsons and my father refused to betroth one of his daughters with your uncle Edmure."

"I know it will be a complicated matter. I will find better Lords, I promise." Robb slowly starting to grow tired of that conversation.

"Did you already think about your next moves?"

"Yes, I did. We'll stay in Riverrun till what's left over of our army is regrouped. But, I don't think I will have much time to leisure. Once Joffrey will be wed to Margaery, Renly's widow, no doubt that the Lannisters will take the field against me once more and this time the Tyrells will march beside them. And now I may need to fight the Freys as well."

"So long as Theon Greyjoy sits in your father's seat, these other foes must wait. Your first duty is to defend your own people. You have to win back Winterfell and hang Theon in a crow's cage to die slowly." Lady Catelyn harshly speaks.

"When I've been told Winterfell had fallen, I wanted to go North at once. I never thought Theon could do such a thing, truly." He says with a hint of defensiveness.

"Did you hear anything from the North? Anything about your little brothers?"

"No, nothing about Bran and Rickon. I just hope that now we are settling down in Riverrun, ravens will come more frequently. The last word I got was that Sir Rodrik had defeated some Ironmen near Torrhen's Square and was assembling a host at Castle Cerwyn to retake Winterfell."

"You need to win back the North with Northmen, Robb."

"And how will you get the Northmen to the North, huh? Tell me, mother. Because I'm out of solutions here." Robb briskly rises from his chair and starts to pace around the room. "The Ironmen are controlling the whole Sunset Sea. The Greyjoys have even taken Moat Cailin. For now, with the men I've left, marching against it is just pure suicide. We will be trapped with the Ironborn before us, angry Freys at our backs and probably Lannisters flanking us from the East." He stops to face his mother. "The only way is to win back the Freys to our cause. With them, we might have some chance of success. Without them, I see no hope. I am willing to give Lord Walder whatever he requires… Apologies, honors, lands, gold… I'm sure there must be something that would soothe his pride?"

.

Mance Rayder and his Wildlings didn't give any rest to the Brothers at Castle Black. As Jon had feared, a few days later another assault came bouncing against the Wall, with the same target; the Gate. Half the tunnel was now blocked with what was left over from the landings from the stairs and the blocks of ice that fell during the first attack.

Day and night, noises from battle could be hear everywhere around. Jon cannot remember the last time he had some decent sleep. When he closes his eyes, he dreams of fighting, when he wakes up, he fights.

Most of the time, Jon prefers to stay on top of the Wall and have some rest in one of the storage sheds. Going up and down with the cage is taking too much time. So, Castle Black was left over to Maester Aemon, Sir Wynton Stout and a few others too old or ill to fight.

He is still half asleep under warm furs when Owen the Oaf, the cook's helper, enters in the small place. "Lord Snow?" He says, gently shaking his shoulder. "The dawn." He helps him to stand on his feet. Others are already awake as well, jostling one another as they put on their boots and buckle their sword-belts in this confined space. No one is speaking, all too tired for talks. "I made a dream last night that the King was coming to our rescue." Owen says. "Maester Aemon had sent another raven and King Robert came with all his army. There were golden banners everywhere all over the horizon." He continues to explain while helping Jon to dress.

"That is a very welcome dream, Owen. I wish I had those kinds too." Jon forces to smile despite the pain in his leg, sweeping a black fur cloak around his shoulders and grabbing his crutch before going out to the Wall to face another day.

He takes back his post on the border of the Wall to have a look on the enemy. Half a mile north, along the edge of the forest, the Wildling have rebuild their encampment, raising their tents of hide and fur with dozens of campfires sending up little smoky columns up to the pale sky. There are horse-lines to the east, mammoths to the west and men everywhere. For every one of them he can see, Jon knows there are a score unseen in the woods.

"Here come our breakfast arrows!" Pyp cheerfully announces, as he does every morning when the Wildling archers are pushing forward their rolling mantlets back to their usual place.

_._

Now that Ylliria has been officially invested, Robb makes her participate at all the tasks and duties of governance. For now, she is reduced to a role of observance and listening, to get familiar with the latest events in the realm. She may ask questions and give her opinion and ideas, but only during the small council meetings. In this particular dark morning, she will witness the King's justice for the first time.

While outside lightning is cracking across the sky and a hard rain is pounding against the stones of Riverrun, they are all gathered in the Grand Hall. Ylliria obliges herself to look at the corpses of the two squires, Tion Frey and Willem Lannister, which were found dead this morning in their quarters. It's clearly murder and Robb's guards have also brought some captives to face the King.

"It required eight of you to kill two unarmed squires?" Robb asks, marching amongst the prisoners.

"To enter the tower, they murdered two of my men as well, Your Grace." Lord Edmure speaks up from the Hand's seat.

"It was no murder, Sir. Any man who steps between a father and his vengeance asks for death." Lord Rickard Karstark answers, his wrists tied up in his back and blood trickling down his face.

"I saw your sons die that night in the Whispering Wood. I was there, remember." The King angrily tells his Lord. "But, Tion Frey did not kill your Torrhen. And Willem Lannister did not slay your Eddard. How can you call this vengeance? This was folly and bloody murder. Your sons died honorably on a battlefield, with swords in their hands."

"Aye, they died. The Kingslayer cut them down. And these two were of his ilk." Rickard gestures at the corpses with his chin. "Only blood can pay for blood."

"The blood of children?" Robb points at them too. "How old were those squires? Twelve, thirteen?"

"Squires die in every battle." Lord Karstark shrugs.

"They die, for sure... That's the horror of wars. But, they die fighting! Tion Frey and Willem Lannister were asleep in their cells, unarmed. They were our hostages and only boys! Look at them!" Robb barks, standing before his throne again.

Lord Karstark looks at Catelyn instead. "Tell your mother to look at them. She slew them as much as I."

Ylliria quickly gives a little smile to Lady Stark to show her support, knowing she is not allowed to intervene.

"My mother has nothing to do with this. This was your work. Your murder. And your treason." Robb continues.

"How can it be treason to kill Lannisters, when it is not treason to free them?" Karstark harshly asks. "Has Your Grace forgotten that we are at war with Casterly Rock? In war, you kill your enemies. Didn't your father teach you that, boy?"

"Boy?" The Greatjon throws Rickard a mailed punch, sending him to his knees.

"Leave him!" Robb's voice echoes around the Hall.

"Yes, Lord Umber, leave me to the King. He means to give me a scolding before he forgives me. That's how he deals with treason, our King in the North." Lord Karstark smiles a wet red smile, spitting out a broken tooth. "Or should I call you the King Who Has Lost the North, Your Grace?"

Ylliria realizes that her insistence to free Lady Catelyn from her house arrest has more consequences on Robb's authority that she has thought. She wants to tell him how mistaken and ignorant she was, but she has to stay silent for now. Instead, she puts a gentle hand over the King's one, hoping he would understand. He grabs her fingers in his and gives them a light squeeze.

"I'm ready to pronounce my sentence." Robb rises from his seat. "In battle I might have slain Tion and Willem myself, but this was no a battle. The victims were asleep in their beds, naked and unarmed. Rickard Karstark you have killed more than a Frey and a Lannister. You have killed my honor. Therefore, I sentence you to death by beheading. I shall deal with you at dawn." He somberly voices. "My Lord Umber, hang the other seven."

"Even the dead ones?" The Greatjon asks.

"Yes. Let them feed the crows. This session in adjourned." Robb sternly orders. "My dear wife, mother, uncle, with me, if you please." He turns away as Lord Umber's men are grabbing the prisoners and driving them from the Hall.

One of the captives suddenly drops on his knees. "Mercy, You Grace. I killed no one. I only stood at the door to watch for guards."

Robb stops to face him. "You didn't know Lord Rickard's intentions?"

"No, Your Grace."

"You did not see their knives? You did not hear the shouts, the screams, the cries?"

"That, I saw and heard, I admit, Your Grace. But, I took no part of the rest. I was only the watcher; I swear it, Your Grace."

Outside the thunder was still crashing loudly. "Lord Umber, this one was only the watcher. Hang him last, so he may watch the others die." He orders merciless, making Ylliria suddenly realizing how much Robb had changed since Winterfell and how hard and coldblooded he became.

.


	85. Chapter 85

**Sorry that I could not update lately, but I was glued in bed with the flue.**

**Feeling better now. ;-)**

Chapter 85: Enemies and more enemies.

The King decides to withdraw a few hours, before the execution at dawn.

In the privacy of their bedroom, Robb takes of his crown, throws it on his little work table and let's himself fall across the large bed. Ylliria helps him to get rid of his boots, before removing her own crown and undoing her hair.

"Still liking to be a Queen?" He rubs his temples where the circlet had left marks.

"I never ask to be a Queen, Robb. And I know you are very upset, but don't let it fall on me. You will not push me into an argument with you. Not now, not today, not for any reason."

"I'm sorry, My Love... But, all the things that happened and still coming..." He heavily sighs, holding out his arms to invite her to lay down with him. "My granduncle Brynden told me that the Karstarks have also left the Host last night. At least all the fighting men, a few camp followers and serving people were left behind with the wounded." He explains.

"I suppose it was all part of Lord Rickard's plans." She gets rid of her gown to put on a lighter one before rejoining Robb on the bed. "Do you thing they could regroup, away from Riverrun? And be a treat to us?"

"No. They've scattered around, hunting down the Kingslayer. Lord Karstark has promise them to give the hand of his maiden daughter to whom brings him Jaime's head." He lets out a nervous laughs. "Near three hundred riders and twice as many mounts, melted away in the night. All the strength of Karhold, lost."

Ylliria doesn't need to be a seasoned warrior to catch the new trap that Robb is in. For the moment, he still holds the Riverlands, but his kingdom is surrounded by enemies on every side now. "I'm sorry if this will sound as a stupid question, but what are you going to do?" She gently kisses his cheek.

"Lord Rickard defied me, betrayed me. I had no other choice than to condemn him." He heavily sighs. "We've still have no response from Walder Frey to our new offer. We heard nothing from Rodrik and the North. And only silence from the Eyries."

"The Eyries? What are you expecting from your Aunt Lysa? Mother says that her sister does not want to be part of any war, that we should not expect any help from her side and that she won't let her knights leaving her castle." She tells him, her head on his chest and her fingers playing with a ribbon from his doublet.

"I know. The Knights of the Vale would have made quite a difference in this war. But, all I've asked from her is to open the Bloody Gate for us and provide ships at Gulltown to take us to the North, nothing else. If I could just land at White Harbor, I could flank Moat Cailin and drive the Ironmen from our lands in half a year." He explains her, circling a lock of her hair around his finger. "Since that will not happen, the Others can take her!" He curses, slowly pushing her aside and going back up. "And bloody Rickard Karstark as well. And Theon Greyjoy, Walder Frey, Tywin Lannister and all the rest of them!" He paces around their bedroom. "Gods be good, why would any man ever want to be King? When everyone was shouting 'King in the North', I told myself… I swore to myself… That I would be a good King, as honorable as Father, strong, just, loyal to my friends and brave when I faced my enemies." He sits down at his little work table, gazing at his crown. "Now, I can't even tell one from the other. How did it all get so confused?"

Ylliria slips off the bed and wraps her arms around his shoulders, feeling completely useless in front of Robb's distress. She wants to tell him that it will all come to order somehow, that some battles are lost; but others can be won, that she trusts his wit and that he is a good King. But, all those words would sound hollow and stupid. It is so unfair; Robb is doing all he can, yet still the blows keep falling, one after the other, relentlessly. Tears of rage are slowly forming in her eyes, but she is fighting them to avoid her husband to have another concern. She just holds him a little tighter. He makes her sit on his lap, cupping her face between his hands and starts to kiss her deeply. She slowly unties his doublet, running her mouth down his neck and her hands to his groin. He carries her in his arms to the bed, lifting her gown over her head before gently pushing her on the mattress.

.

Maester Aemon has given Jon his brass spyglass from Myr to have a better look at the foe from the top of the Wall. The Myrish lens brings the Wildlings so close that he can nearly see what is happening in Mance's huge white tent. On the other side of the Wildling's encampment, he also checks the progress of a new devise that they were building. Pyp has named it 'the turtle'. With the hides of dead mammoths, they have covered a wooden dome on eight wheels, wide enough to protect a good twenty men under it.

"It's done, isn't it?" Grenn asks, arriving near Jon.

"It looks like it. It will come today, most likely. Did you fill the barrels?"

"Every one of them and they froze hard during the night, as you said."

Their oil stock was out and the last barrel of tar had rolled off the Wall two nights ago. They will soon run short of arrows too and there had no fletchers to make more. So, they had to be inventive.

The barrels they prepared the day before were filled with crushed rock and water to cover it all. Overnight, the whole thing had frozen solid. It was the nearest thing to a boulder they manage to get.

"IT'S COMING!" Hareth suddenly shouts out.

Jon hastily engulfs the rest of his breakfast and returns in front of his far-eye. "Sound the warhorn!" He orders and Kegs blows two long blasts for all to hear.

Mance Rayder has so many men that he can throw fresh attackers at them every time. On the other side, it is still the same handful of men in black that are facing every assault. Despite the fact that they are completely worn out, as soon as the horn blasts, the Brothers of the Night's Watch are running to their post, ready to go through another day of fights.

The turtle is slowly creeping through stones, stumps and brushes. Satin, Hareth and the others are looking at Jon waiting for his orders. He feels so tired too that he hardly knows what to do anymore. "The Wall is mine." He reminds himself once more, taking a deep breath. "Owen and Hareth, to the trebuchet. Kegs and Spare Boot, on the catapults. The rest of you, string your bows. And use fire arrows. Let's see if we can burn that thing."

Slowly moving, the turtle makes an easy target and the archers and crossbowmen of the Wall soon turn it into a wooden hedgehog, but the wet hides were a good protection, the flaming arrows guttering out almost instantly. The catapult bolts are punching deeper into the pelts, but without making more damage than the arrows and the rocks are just bouncing off its roof. Jon curses under his breath. Inch by inch, yard by yard, the thing on wheels continues its course towards the Gate, rolling and rocking through the killing ground. He knows that once the Wildlings will have it against the Wall, it would give them the perfect shelter while they crash against the hastily repaired outer gates. Once inside, under the ice, they will clear the loose rubble from the tunnel in a matter of hours and then there will be nothing to stop them but two iron gates, a few half-frozen corpses and the scattered Brothers that Jon will care to throw in their path to fight and die down in the dark. Their only hope was to crush it when it reaches the Wall. "Grenn, Owen, Kegs, it's time." Jon calls.

"That bugger weight a ton." Grenn puffs, trying to move the first barrel by pushing it with his shoulder.

"Tip it over and roll it." Jon advises him. "But careful, if it rolls over your foot, you'll end up like Spare Boot." He tries to jest while helping his friend.

Two other men were needed to finally get four barrels ready in front of the precipice, just in time when Pyp shouts. "There's a turtle at our door!"

"Do it!" Jon orders Grenn. The first self-made boulder quickly disappears from the edge. They hear a thump as it strikes the Wall on its way down, then a much louder crash, followed by a crack of splintering wood and finally shouts and screams.

"Oh look, the turtle was stuffed with rabbits! Look at them hopping away! Surly must we give that recipe to Three-Finger Hobb! He might do it for Godsday!" Pyp laughs.

"Again!" Jon yells and a second barrel was flying. The front of Mance's devise turned into a complete ruin, spilling out Wildlings from the other end, running back to their camp. Satin sends a few quarrels after them just to see them off the faster while Grenn grins through his beard and Pyp continues to make japes. "None of them will die today. On the morrow, though... I need to get some sleep, a few hours at least." Jon thinks for himself. "I'm going down. Call me if Mance gets up to anything. Pyp, you have the Wall." He shouts.

"Me?" Pyp suddenly jumps.

"Him?" Grenn shouts out.

Smiling, Jon leaves them to it and rides down in the cage.

_._

When day broke, the storm has diminished to a steady, soaking rain. Even so, the Godswood was already crowded.

"Your Grace." Lord Umber gently approaches Ylliria. "You should stay here at the Castle. A beheading is a hard thing to watch."

"My Lord. I thank you for your concerns, but I just had that same discussion with the King." She puts a gentle hand on his forearm. "Remember during my wedding supper, I promise the King and all of you to be dedicated to the service of the North. My husband decided with the Edict that I will have to rule beside and sometimes for him. So, attending this execution is part of the duties that devolve upon me. What would our soldiers think if their Queen shows already signs of weakness when fair justice has been pronounced? How would they feel the day a battle is at our doors? Would they trust and give their life for a frighten woman?"

"You really are a Queen, Your Grace." The Greatjon bows.

"Now that said, let me be totally honest with you. I will not refuse your arm during the execution, My Lord." She smiles.

"My strength is all yours, Your Grace." He leads Ylliria to the King, already waiting for them at the Castle's main gate.

Robb kisses her on one cheek. "My Love, are you sure?" He whispers in her ear. She just smiles for an answer and takes his arm to walk towards the Godswood.

The Greatjon's men are leading Lord Rickard Karstark through the people pressed along the way, his hands still bound in his back. The executioner already waits beside the block, leaning on his poleaxe. But, when Robb arrives, he grabs the ax from the man's hands and asks him to step aside. "This is my doing. He has been sentenced at my word; he must die by my hand." He says without joy.

"For that much, I thank you. But for nothing else." Lord Rickard bows his head stiffly. "The blood of the First Men flows in my veins as much as in yours, boy. Remember that! Stark and Karstark are kin."

"And still, this kinship didn't stop you from betraying me. Kneel, My Lord." Robb sternly commands.

"The Gods shall judge you, as you have judged me." Rickard slowly dropping on the ground and laying his head upon the block.

"Rickard Karstark, Lord of Karhold, in sight of Gods and men, I judge you guilty of murder and high treason. In my own name I condemn you and with my own hand I take your life. Do you want to speak a final word?" Robb lifts the heavy ax with both hands.

"Kill me and be cursed. You are no King of mine."

And the heavy and well-honed ax crashes down, cutting the Lord's head at the first blow. Robb flings the weapon full of blood down in disgust and turns wordless to the heart tree. He stands there, shaking with his hands half-clenched and the rain slowly running down his cheeks. Ylliria let go of Lord Umber's arm and softly asks him to order his men to disperse the crowd around. She slowly approaches the King, taking one of his hands in hers and joining him in his prayers.

.


	86. Chapter 86

Chapter 86: The Twin Envoys

At twilight, Ylliria comes to visit Lady Catelyn in her quarters. "My Lady, I do not mean to disturb you."

"Oh, not at all! You are most welcome here, Ylliria." Catelyn puts her sewing work aside. "Please come and sit with me on the balcony." She taps on a cushion next to her. "It was a very sad day today."

"It was, My Lady. Robb locked himself in his audience room after the beheading. I tried to speak with him, but he sent me away."

"It's a hard thing to take a man's life."

"I can only imagine and that is why I wanted to comfort him, to be with him, to share the weight."

"My dear child, my son loves you and he needs you. Don't you worry, he will come back to you soon enough."

"If you say so, mother. But, he asks me to rule with him. How can I do that if he puts me aside at such crucial moment?"

"I have two words for you, patience and understanding." She takes her hands in hers.

"Mother, there is something else I wanted to ask your advice on. And now that we are finally alone..."

"What is it, Ylliria?" Lady Catelyn encourages her, feeling her embarrassment.

"Well, it's about…" Ylliria sighs. "A King must have an heir... And I don't understand why I'm still not with child, since Robb and I are... Every night, since we wed... You understand."

Catelyn softly nods and smiles.

"I take all the potions I heard of. I count my days between bleedings. I read every book I can grab on the subject. I even wrote to Mother Clarise for her advice."

"In that matter too, you will need patience, dear."

"But you had Robb soon after your wedding with Lord Eddard. You told me so."

"The Kingdom was at peace at that time and we were just happy, without concerns... Without fears... It will come. Don't worry. You have the right hips for..."

Soft knocks on the door are interrupting their woman's discussion. "My Pardons, Your Grace… Sweet sister." Lord Edmure comes. "Lord Frey has finally sent some envoys with an answer to the King's new proposal. But, he is not answering at his door, so I took the liberty to come to you."

"You did well, Nuncle. I will receive Lord's Frey's envoys in the Great Hall." Ylliria kisses Lady Catelyn on both cheeks before following Lord Edmure. "Who has he send?" She asks him, walking along the hallway.

"One of his sons, Lothar Frey. I think he is Lord Walder's twelfth son; from his fourth wife. I can't recall her name. And Walder Rivers, the eldest of his numerous bastards."

"This old man seems to have been very prolific." She lightly laughs, recalling the conversation she just had with Lady Catelyn. "Very well. Could you please attend to our guests while I'll pass by the audience room?"

"They came with forty soldiers as escort." Edmure points out.

"Make sure those men are welcomed, sheltered and fed. And that their horses are taking care of."

"Yes, Your Grace." He bows ready to leave.

"Nuncle." Ylliria gently calls. "What is your first impression about those envoys? Tell me truth." She lowers her voice.

He clears his throat. "The Old bugger has sent us some vulgar underlings to treat such important matter. I feel honestly insulted."

"Probably like Lord Frey when we heard about our wedding."

"I really don't like that Walder Rivers either. I don't know… Something in his look bothers me."

"Well, at least they came. I'll fetch the King."

When Lord Edmure continues his way to the Great Hall, Ylliria knocks at the door of the audience room. "My Love, Lord Frey's envoys are finally here. Would you prefer that I am welcoming them in your stead?" She gently asks through the door.

She jumps in surprise when the door suddenly flies open. "Where are they?" Robb briskly asks his clothes and hair in complete disarray.

"With your uncle Edmure in the Great Hall. I was about to join him to officially..."

"Hum... No, please help me dress. We need them to see us together." He quickly says, pulling her inside and slamming the door.

.

Robb and Ylliria are making a stately entrance in the Hall, welcomed by drums and horns, the small council and the Bannermen Lords bowing at their passage.

The King stops in front of the two Frey envoys and greets them with every courtesy.

"Your Grace, perhaps you might grant us an audience tonight?" Lothar Frey requests.

"It would be my pleasure. It was never my wish to sow enmity between us." Robb answers.

"Nor mine to be the cause of it." Ylliria gently adds.

Lothar Frey shows her his nicest smiles. "Now that I have met you, Your Grace, I completely understand the King's hast to wed. And my Lord Father instructed me to tell that he was young once and well remembers what it is like to lose one's heart to beauty." He kisses her hand.

"Your father is most gracious." Robb answers. "I look forward to our talk. Let it be in front of a nice intimate supper. The road must have exhausted you, My Lords. We have prepared our most comfortable rooms with a fire, a comfortable feather-bed and a hot bath."

"Your Grace is most obliged." Lothar bows and both the envoys follow the squires that were put at their disposal.

"I need to go see mother." Robb softly says to Ylliria. "I receive some news from King's Landing." He frowns.

"How bad?" She asks him a worried look on her face.

"Nobody's dead, I reassure you. It's just another thorn in my side." He sighs. "Can you take care of the supper arrangements, Sweetheart?" He kisses her.

"Of course, My Love. But what is it? The news?"

He takes her in a corner where no-one can hear them. "I should have traded the Kingslayer for Sansa when my mother urged me to." Robb starts in a low voice. "If I had betrothed my sister to the Knight of Flowers, the Tyrells might ride with us instead of Joffrey's. I should have foreseen that."

"Sansa's betrothal to Joffrey was King Robert's idea. You couldn't change that."

"No, Joffrey did it by choosing Margaery Tyrell for spouse."

"Then Sansa will be home soon, isn't it?"

"Not so sure of that. A bird came today." Robb clears his throat. "They married her to Tyrion Lannister."

"Married her to... The Imp?" Ylliria spits the name in disgust.

"Yes."

"Poor Sansa... Why would anyone do this to her?"

"For Winterfell. With Bran and Rickon disappearance, Sansa becomes my lawful heir. If anything should happen to me..."

"Or if I'm incapable to give you a son..." Ylliria lowers her gaze to the floor.

"My Love, I was not saying this to put the blame on you." He takes her in his arms. "We will have children, soon, I know. We'll have to try harder, that's all." He smirks, making her softly laughs. "It's just that I need to make sure the Lannisters won't ever put their hands on Winterfell. I need to iron-clad the possibilities."

She nods in understanding.

He kisses her forehead. "I go to my mother's. Make sure everything is perfect for tonight's supper."

.

If Robb and Lord Edmure do their very best to be perfect hosts, Lame Lothar is making it up for both of them. He is a model of courtesy. On the other hand, his bastard brother Walder Rivers is another matter; more looking like his old father; a harsh sour man with a suspicious face.

"Lothar seems amiable, that's a hopeful sign." Ylliria whispers in Robb's ear.

"That does not mean that we have won this battle." He gently squeezes her hand.

"Oh, I know… I really don't like the other Frey. Uncle Edmure told me the same when they arrive and it's sad to notice that he was right about that."

"Be gentle, My Love. You will only suffer him during this supper. Let me handle the rest."

"Don't worry, Sweetheart. I learned a lot of things lately. I will be the Charm epitomized." She smiles before turning her head towards Lord Lothar, starting to ask him questions about his journey from the Twins to Riverrun.

When all the empty words were said and the remains of the meal were cleared away, Lothar Frey suddenly clears his throat. "Before we turn to the business that brings us here, Your Grace… There is another matter." He solemnly says. "A grave matter, I fear. I had hoped it would not fall to me to bring you these tidings, but it seems I must."

"What now? Please Gods, not another blow." Ylliria thinks for herself.

"My lord father has received a letter. It's already a few weeks old." Lothar continues. "I grieve to tell you this, but Winterfell was burned."

"Burned?" Robb's voice sounds incredulous.

"Your Northern Lords have tried to retake it from the Ironmen. When Theon Greyjoy saw that he was about to lose his prize, he has put the Castle to the torch." The Frey explains, leaving out the part of Theon's having lost his new bride too.

"We haven't heard of any battle." The King says, still surprised to hear that news.

"It was a bloody bit of business, Your Grace. And, your Castellan, Sir Rodrik, was also slained."

"What of our other people?"

"The Ironmen put many of them to the sword, I fear."

Wordless with rage, Robb slams a fist on the table and turns his face away, so the Freys would not see the tears slowly coming up.

"Maester Luwin, Mikken at the forge, Old Nan, Belinda... Are you sure they are all dead?" Ylliria asks with a trembling voice.

"No, Your Grace, not all of them. The women and children are safe. It seems that they could run away and hide. And the survivors were carried back to the Dreadford by Lord Bolton's son."

"Could you tell us if Bran and Rickon, our King little brother were among them?"

"I'm very sorry, Your Grace. There was no mention of them in the letter." Lothar sadly shakes his head.

"Theon." Robb says suddenly. "What happened to Theon Greyjoy? Is he dead?"

Lame Lothar spreads his hands. "That I cannot tell Your Grace. No mention of his fate either. Perhaps we should adjourn out meeting until the morrow."

"No. I want the matter settled." Robb firmly says.

"Me as well." Lord Edmure adds.

.


	87. Chapter 87

Chapter 87: Searching peace with the Freys.

"Do you have an answer to our offer, My Lord Frey?" Robb asks, requesting in the same time to a squire to fill his cups with wine.

"I do, Your Grace." Lothar smiles. "My Lord father bids me to tell Your Grace that he agrees to this new marriage alliance between our Houses and renews his fealty to the King of the North, upon the condition that the King's Grace apologizes for the insult done to House Frey, in his royal person, face to face."

"I am pleased." Robb says cautiously. "It was never my wish to cause this disagreement between us. The Freys have fought valiantly for my cause. I would like to have them at my side once more."

"You are too kind, Your Grace. As you accept these terms, I am then instructed to offer Lord Tully the hand of my sister, the Lady Roslyn. She is my Lord father's youngest daughter by Lady Bethany of House Rosby, his sixth wife. She has a gentle nature and a gift for music."

Edmure starts to nervously move in his seat. "Might it not be better if I first meet her?" He carefully asks.

"You'll meet when you'll be wed." Walder Rivers curtly intervenes. "You must accept her now, My Lord or my father's offer will be void."

Lame Lothar spreads his hands again. "You will certainly pardon my brother's bluntness, My Lord, but what he says is true. It is My Lord father's wish that this marriage take place at once."

"At once?" Edmure astounds.

"Does Lord Walder still have in mind that we are fighting a war?" Robb asks, making a gentle gesture to his uncle for him to keep silence.

"Hardly, Your Grace. This is why he insists so much for a prompt wedding. Men die at war, even the young and strong ones. What would our alliance be worth if Lord Edmure should fall before he marries my sister? And there is my father's age to consider as well. He is past ninety and could not likely see the end of this struggle. It would put his noble heart at peace if he could see his dear Roslyn safely wed before the Gods take him, so he might die with the knowledge that his dear little girl has a strong husband to cherish and that will protect her."

Ylliria starts to be more and more uncomfortable with these new arrangements. She can't put exact words on her discomfort, just that lingering feeling about the way Lothar Frey is talking, moving and smiling.

"And my grandfather is not found of long betrothals anymore." The bastard Walder Rivers adds. "I cannot imagine why?" He laughs up in his sleeve.

Robb gives him a chilly look. "I get your meaning, Rivers." He turns upon Lord Lothar again. "Will you please excuse us now. We would like to have a private small talk and give you our answers as soon as possible."

"As Your Grace wishes." Lame Lothar rises from his chair, silently requesting to his bastard brother to follow him.

"Why should I let that old weasel choose my bride? Lord Walder has other daughters besides this Roslyn and granddaughters as well. I should be offered the same choice you had received. I'm his liege Lord; he should be overjoyed that I'm willing to wed any of them." Edmure storms as soon as the Frey's where out of ears.

"He's a proud man and we've wounded him, Uncle." Robb calmly answers.

"The Others can take his pride! I will not marry a stranger! I'm sorry, but my answer is 'no'!"

"I will not command you, Uncle. Not in these kinds of matters. But if you refuse, Lord Frey will take it for another insult and any hope of putting this right will be lost."

"You don't know that!" Edmure insists. "We are still negotiating, aren't we? I do not refuse to wed a Frey girl. I just refuse to get someone imposed to me." He pleads.

Robb's hands slowly curls into fists. "Uncle, I must get back to the North as soon as possible. My Brothers are somewhere alone and frightened, Winterfell has been burned down and my smallfolk put to the sword... And the Gods only know, Theon might still be alive and on the loose. I can't sit here waiting for a wedding that might or might not happen."

"Uncle." Ylliria softly speaks out. "Without your approval to this wedding, Robb's cause will be totally lost. I know I have my part of responsibility in all of this, I am not denying it. And I know that I am as a stranger to you than your future bride. But, I am humbly asking you to consider this wedding as the only way to see some blue sky around us."

Edmure heavily sighs, his stare going from Robb to Ylliria.

"I can't give you count of the sleepless nights where Robb scrutinizes maps and books, looking for a solution that might us win peace. Please, Uncle, I am begging you for the love of us all." She continues with a trembling voice.

"The Others take you all! Very well, I'll wed the wench!" Lord Tully suddenly yells before leaving the Hall.

.

Jon has a look at Ylliria's portrait again, drinking a cup of dreamwine to help him to sleep and hoping the sight of her face will give him sweeter dreams for once. He stretches out on the narrow bed in his cell and instantly passes out. When he wakes up a few hours later, four men he does not recognize, are towering over him.

"Jon Snow, pull on your boots and follow us." The tallest of them brusquely says.

He rubs his eyes to notice that the strangers in his room were all wearing black. "Follow you where? Who are you?"

The tall man gestures and two of the others are pulling the young man from his bed.

They lead him from his cell to Mormont's old solar. In the middle of the room, a unknown men sits in Mormont's chair. Looking around, Jon sees Maester Aemon standing by the fire, Septon Cellodor half-drunk as usual, Sir Wynton Stout asleep in a window seat and another familiar face that he would have rather not have seen there.

"Here's the turncloak now, My Lord. Ned Stark's bastard of Winterfell." Sir Alliser Thorne smirks.

"I'm no turncloak, Thorne." Jon coldly answers.

"We shall see." The big, broad and jowly unknown man speaks. "You will not deny that you are Jon Snow, I hope? Stark's bastard?"

"How many men have you brought from Eastwatch-by-the-Sea?" Jon asks, undaunted.

"It's me who'll ask the questions for now. You are being charged with oathbreaking, cowardice and desertion, Jon Snow." The man crosses his arms on his chest. "Do you deny you abandoned your Brothers to die on the Fist of the First Men and joined the Wildling Mance Rayder?"

"Abandoned...?" Jon almost chokes on the word.

"My Lord." Maester Aemon speaks up. "Donal Noye and I have discuss these issues when Jon Snow first returned to us and were satisfied with his explanations."

"Well, I am NOT satisfied, Maester. I will hear these explanations myself and make my own decisions."

Jon swallows his anger. "I've abandon no one! I left the Fist with Qhorin Halfhand to scout the Skirling Pass. I joined the Wildlings under orders. Halfhand feared Mance might have found the Horn of Winter..."

"Is that your defense, bastard? And were you commanded to count the Snarks as well?" Sir Alliser chuckles.

"No, but I counted their giants and mammoths as best I could." He sarcastically retorts.

"Sir!" The jowly man snaps. "You will address Sir Alliser as Sir and myself as My Lord. I am Janos Slynt, Lord of Harrenhal and will act as Commander at Castle Black until Bowen Marsh returns with his garrison." He points a finger at Jon. "Now, do you deny you took a Wildling woman into your bed?"

"No." The young man softly answers. "No, My Lord."

"I suppose it was also Qhorin who commanded you to fuck this unwashed whore?" Sir Alliser flings.

"Sir, she was not a whore, Sir. Halfhand told me not to balk, whatever the Wildlings asked of me, but... I will not deny that I went beyond what I had to do, Sir."

"You admit to being an oathbreaker, then." Lord Slynt says.

"I broke my vows with a woman. I admit that. Yes." Jon answers.

"Yes, My Lord!" Janos barks.

"Yes, My Lord. I rode with the Wildlings and ate with them, as Halfhand commanded me. And I shared my furs with Ygrid. But, I swear to you, I never turned my cloak. I escaped the Magnar as soon as I could and never took up arms against my Brothers or the realm."

"So, this is your story then." Lord Slynt smirks. "Sir Glendon bring me the other prisoner." He orders to the tall man that dragged Jon from his bed.

.

Lady Catelyn is helping her son to prepare his trunks for the imminent departure to the Twins.

"I had hoped to leave Ylliria with child before we had to go. We try often enough, but I'm not certain..." Robb suddenly speaks.

"It does not always happen the first time. You are still very young." Catelyn gently smiles, under the impression to start over the same conversation she already had with Ylliria a few days before.

"Very young and a King." He sighs. "A King must have an heir, mother. If I should die in my next battle, the kingdom must not die with me. With the Edict, Ylliria keeps her title and has all power to reign, but without children she might lost it all. By law, Sansa is next in line of succession."

"Bran and Rickon might still be alive too." Catelyn comes with some hope in her voice.

"Aye. But, in the meantime, we must protect all grounds. I cannot allow to have it passed to Sansa and her... Husband." His mouth tightens. "I will not allow that. That dwarf must never have the North!"

"No, you are right. You must name another heir, until Ylliria gives you a son." Her mother agrees.

"Mother." He comes, gently approaching her. "I already though about that. Father had four sons."

"What? No Robb, a Snow is not a Stark." She says as she directly understands what he meant. "And he is a brother of the Night's Watch now, sworn to take no wife and hold no lands. Those who takes the black serve for life."

"If I send the Watch a hundred men in Jon's place, I'll bet they'll find some way to release him from his vows."

"But, a bastard cannot inherit." Catelyn tries.

"Not unless he's legitimized by a royal decree. I will write an amendment to Ylliria's Edict."

"I agree that the North must not be permitted to pass to the Imp, but what of Arya? She comes after Sansa... Your own true-born sister."

"No one has seen or heard from her since they cut Father's head off. Arya might be gone as Bran and Rickon or not. I cannot leave those 'ifs' hanging above our heads, mother. I will make it clear in the Edict that if any of my brothers are found alive, Jon will be regent till they are of age. Don't forget mother that Bran might not be able to father any children either with his injury."

"Truth be told that the Gods did not spared us of heavy blows those last years." She sighs.

"I will raise Jon to my lawful heir. It is the safest way, mother."

"You're right, my son. Did you tell Ylliria already?" She asks.

"Yes. And she fully agrees with me."

"Good then." Catelyn finally nods before leaving the room.

_._


	88. Chapter 88

Chapter 88: The turncloak.

Robb hands over to Ylliria the new Decree naming Jon Snow Heir of the King of the North and next Lord Stark of Winterfell. "Keep it safe with the Edict and only use it when you are out of options." He tells her.

"Robb, the last time I've heard anything about Jon is when he was lost in a raiding behind the Wall with his Lord Commander. We don't know if they've return safe to Castle Black."

"And the last I heard of him, he was considered as a traitor, a turncloak and was riding with the Wildlings."

"That is absurd!" She bursts out.

"As much as thinking he might be dead."

"But, we had so much death around us lately, it's hard not to think of it." She kisses his forehead, stroking his hair.

"I know, My Love." He takes her in his arms.

"Please, let me come with you at the Twins."

"We already talked about this, Ylliria. I need you to stay at Riverrun and rule on my behalf since the Hand of the King is the one that is going to get married."

She heavily sighs. "Robb, I have that bad feeling since we've met with the Frey envoys. There is something amiss with this speedy wedding and you obliging to go to the Twins instead of them coming to us. You are the King of the North! I don't see why you have to lead uncle Edmure to his future wife, when in normal circumstances it's the father that brings the bride to her betrothed. Plus the fact that House Tully is liege lord of House Frey."

"We have agreed to it as amend to the fault I have committed. I don't like it as much as you, but I need this to happen and make the Freys happy. We can't afford to have other enemies."

"I know all that. I was just wishing we could stay together."

"It won't take long. Just a quick roundtrip. We go, we do the wedding and we come back. No more, no less." He smiles. "And I will have a clear conscience knowing you are safe behind the high, strong walls of Riverrun, My Love. With my granduncle, Brynden and the Greatjon at your side to protect you."

"So, you think I might be in danger going with you to the Twins."

"I think nothing. But, I need you to rule the realm during my absence. Things needs to be settled and justice needs to be running." He says, slowly losing patience.

"Your men can do that and surely better than me." She raises her voice too.

"My men do not have the authority. But, you have."

"Lord Walder might take my absence from the wedding as another slight, don't you think?"

"And your presence could be taken as a different sort of insult. That is why mother is accompanying me. She will represent the 'Royal' family of the North and House Tully. Let us hope the Old Frey will feel honored enough with that."

"Robb, I really don't like it!"

"Enough, Ylliria. You do as I say!" He suddenly thunders.

Grey Wind, that was laying near the hearth, pricks up its ears. The Direwolf slowly approaches them, sits in between them, baring his teeth.

"He does not like it either, it seems." Ylliria kneels and starts to pet the wolf.

"He is most probably tired to hear us arguing." Robb smiles, scratching behind its ears. "Maybe Grey Wind should stay with you. Would that make your bad feelings getting better?"

"No, Grey Wind is yours. He must stay at your side, where he belongs." She muzzles in the animal's neck.

.

At Lord Slynt order, Sir Glendon fetch the other captive he was referring too earlier and roughly throws him on the floor. "Is this the man you spoke of?" Janos asks the lad on his knees.

"Aye, m'Lord." He splutters between his left over teeth.

"Rattleshirt." Jon whispers when he recognizes him.

"He's th'craven that killed Halfhand, up'n the Frostfangs. We hunted down t'others and killed them. We would have done the same to him, only he begged f'his worthless life and offered t'join us. Halfhand swore he'd see th'craven dead first, but the wolf ripped him half t'pieces and this one opened h'throat." He explains, giving Jon a toothless smile and spiting blood on the floor, near his feet.

"Well?" Lord Slynt harshly demands to Jon. "Do you deny these events to have happened? Or will you claim Qhorin commanded you to kill him too?"

"He told me..." The young man sighs. "He told me to do whatever they asked of me."

"Your lies won't save you, Jon Snow." Alliser warns.

"I've told you the truth! Up there, Rattleshirt was close behind us. Qhorin asked of me to pretend to join the Wildlings. You must not balk, whatever is asked of you, he told me. He knew they would make me kill him. They were going to kill him anyway." He pleads, slowly raising his voice.

Slynt slams a fist on the table. "Sir Alliser had see it clear enough! All bastards lie and cheat and play false! I will not suffer it! You might have fooled the others, but you won't fool me, Lord Snow!" He sits back down. "Do you think my skull is stuffed with cabbage?"

"I don't know what your skull is stuffed with, My Lord." Jon smirks.

"Lord Snow may play the arrogant. But, facts are facts." Sir Alliser says. "He murdered Qhorin just as his fellow turncloaks did Lord Mormont. It would surprise me half to learn that it was all part of the same despicable plot. Benjen Stark may well have a hand in all of this as well. For all we know, he might be sitting in Mance Rayder's tent even as we speak. You know how far these Starks can go, My Lord."

"I do know them too well, Sir." Janos Slynt half-smiles.

"My uncle is a man of honor. He would never have betrayed his vows." Jon harshly comes.

"No more than you, I suppose?" Thorne mocks.

"My Lords." Maester Aemon suddenly intervenes. "When Donal Noye was slain, it was this young man who took the Wall and held it, against all the fury of the Wildlings in front of us. He has proven himself valiant, loyal and resourceful. Without this young man, you would have found Mance Rayder sitting in this very chair at your arrival, Lord Slynt. Jon Snow was Lord Mormont's own steward and squire. He was chosen for that duty because the Lord Commander saw much promises in him. As I do."

"Well, promises may turn false, Maester. Qhorin Halfhand's blood is on his hands. Mormont trusted him, you say, but what of that? I know what it is to be betrayed by men you trust. And I know the ways of wolves as well." He points at Jon's face. "Your father died a traitor, bastard!"

"My father was murdered!" Jon is past caring what they would do to him now.

"You insolent pup!" Slynt purples. "Sir Alliser, take this turncloak to an ice cell! That would maybe put his mind aright and hopefully come back to his senses!"

Surrounded by the same men that had pulled him out of his bed, Jon is briskly pushed into a cell directly dug in the Wall. "You will die in here, Lord Snow. I promise you that!" Sir Alliser says just before closing the heavy wooden door.

And for once Jon believe him.

.

In the Castle yard and ready to depart for the Twins, the King bids a last time farewell to his beloved Queen. "I promise you to be very careful and to be back as soon as I can." Robb takes Ylliria in his arms. All the time they are talking, Grey Wind is prowling around them, stopping only to shake the water from his fur and baring his teeth at the rain. Ylliria kneels in front of him, taking its head between her hands. "You'll watch over him, all right? I'm counting on you. You'll protect Robb and kill anyone that would be a danger to him." She kisses the animal's forehead. "And you'll come back to me together, strong and healthy." Grey Wind lets out a soft cry and buries his muzzle into her neck. "I'll miss you too, my sweet wolf." She whispers in its ear. When finally Robb gives Ylliria a final kiss, the Direwolf races off ahead as swift as an arrow.

The King mounts his favorite brown mare and shouts the order to march. He turns around to wave one last time to her when he goes through the gate of Riverrun.

"The Queen has a loving heart, I see." Lothar Frey says to Lady Catelyn, riding besides her.

"She is the right spouse for my son, My Lord." She answers with a smile.

Ylliria couldn't resist and asks for her own horse to be rapidly prepared. Lord Umber has only a few minutes to assemble a small group of soldiers to accompany in her ride.

The Greatjon at her side, she stops on top of a small hill to watch Robb's Host slowly leaving Riverrun. Galbart Glover has taken command of the scouts and outriders and Lord Umber's son, the Smalljon is leading the van, at his father great satisfaction. "An Umber always leads the King of the North's van." He proudly tells the Queen.

"I remember a similar discussion back in Winterfell during the feast of the Bannermen." She smiles. "The bloody wall will melt before an Umber marches behind a Glover!" She says, trying to imitate a deep man's voice.

"Exactly!" The tall man guffaws.

Behind the King, Lady Catelyn travels in the main column, surrounded by heavy warhorses with armored men on their backs. Next comes the baggage train, a procession of wagons loaded with food, fodder, camp supplies and wedding gifts. Then come the herds of sheep, goats and scrawny cattle, and then a little tail of camp followers. Further back was Robin Flint and the rearguard. In total, a good thirty-five hundred are on their way to the Twins.

"I really hope Lord Frey will appreciate this procession on its true worth." Ylliria sighs, loosing sight of Robb. "But, I really pity my uncle Edmure to wed someone he never met and probably will never love."

"Your Grace must believe me. It's less painful for a man to wed an unknown woman that the other way around." He clears his throat. "We can always find side pleasures... If you understand my drift."

"Aye." She softly laughs. "I've catch your meaning, My Lord."

"No offense, Your Grace."

"None taken, Lord Umber." She pulls at one side of her reign to turn her horse back to the Castle. "Let us go back now. It seems we have a realm to rule, isn't it?"

"Aye, Your Grace. I would have though you'd prefer withdrawing in your room."

"I prefer put my mind on something useful, My Lord. I am certainly not the weeping kind."

"Gods would have been good to me to give me a spouse like Your Grace. I would have been lucky."

"Don't be so sure of that, My Lord. Women with temper are often hard to control." She laughs, pushing her horse to a gallop.

.


	89. Chapter 89

Chapter 89: A Hound requesting a ransom.

The small council takes places in the private audience room, as every morning since the King's departure to the Twins. Ylliria favors this place more than the Great Hall or the other War room, finding it less intimidating. And she also feels closer to Robb, sitting in his very chair. She starts the day by reading the last messages received and listening to the grievances of the smaller Lord Houses, the landed gentry and merchants from the Riverlands. Then, comes the list of small deeds perpetrated by the soldiers and the smallfolks that need to be judged and sentences pronounced.

As much as Ylliria was unsure of herself in the first weeks of ruling the realm in the King's behalf, as much she is now totally in control of the current situation. When Lord Umber pleads her to have some rest after a long day of work, she invariably gives him the same answer. "Time will fly more quickly if I stay busy."

This morning, though, their routine is interrupt by the entrance of Sir Brynden Tully, Robb's great-uncle and Commander of the Riverrun Guards. "Your Grace, My Lords." He bows. "There is a man at the gate claiming to be Sandor Clegane and requests to speak in private with Her Grace."

"What would that bloody Hound be doing so far away from his beloved bastard King?" Lord Umber harshly comments.

"Is he armed?" Ylliria asks, putting a hand on the Greatjon's arm to gently request him to silence.

"Yes, Your Grace. But, he is alone. Our Tower Guards did not see any other men on the roads around."

"Did he tell you what exactly he wants?"

"No, Your Grace. He only said that it is a matter that needs to be discussed in private with the King of the North."

"You told him about the King's absence?"

"Aye, Your Grace. That is when he requested your attention instead."

"Bring him in the yard, guarded by four of your best men and post some archers along the walkway of the walls with their longbows ready. I will see him." She says.

"At once, Your Grace." Sir Brynden bows and leaves the room.

"Your Grace." Lord Umber pleads. "What would that man possibly have to offer us? We don't need service from such an evil creature and it could be another trap from the Lannisters."

"A man alone, as monstrous or valiant he can be, would not take the risk to come in the middle of a well-guarded castle, confronting his enemies and been taken prisoner so easily. I will hear him and decide what to do once I know his matter. It does not mean I'm totally stupid. Bring me my short chain-mail and my breastplate. If his goal is to kill me and being killed afterwards, I prefer not to let him have that opportunity."

"At your command, Your Grace." Lord Umber smirks.

Ylliria arrives in the yard surrounded by her personal guards and Lord Umber, his hand already on the pommel of his longsword. She slowly approaches the Hound.

"I was not expecting to see you, My Lady." He says in a low voice.

"You will address me as 'Your Grace', if you please." She flings.

"So, you are the Queen of the North, huh?" He grins.

"To what do we owe the honor of your visit, Clegane?"

"Your Grace, I have something that belong to you and are here to negotiate a fair price."

"Something that belongs to me? I'm curious to know what I have lost so dear that I could not remember it or still not crying my eyes out for its loss." She jests, making the men around lightly laugh.

"Oh, you will cry, Your Grace, once you'll know." He grabs the enrolled rug he was carrying under his arm and throws it at her feet.

She makes a gesture with her head asking one of her guards to pick it up. He unrolls it and shows her what is in it. It's a small sword. She quivers at the sight of it. "Where did you find this?" She briskly asks the Hound.

"From the person it belongs to."

"Where is she?"

"Hidden, not far away."

"Why didn't you bring her with you?"

The Hound starts to guffaw. "Are you taking me for a complete fool."

"How much do you want as ransom?" She coldly asks.

"You have more wit than I thought."

"I will do without your filthy comments, Clegane. Tell me just how much?"

"A thousand Golden Dragons."

"A thousand..." Lord Umber shouts out.

Ylliria gives him a side look before turning back to face the Hound. "A thousand Golden Dragons is a very high ransom of the fourth child of a Lord. And furthermore for a girl." She bargains to see his reaction.

"Times are tough and everything is so expensive these days." He shrugs. "But, if you think you will be able to explain to your Kingly husband that you refused to pay for the life of his only known living sibling. That is your problem."

"What gives me the insurance she is still alive?"

"My word and my honor."

She scrutinizes his half-burned face. "Seven hundred and fifty Golden Dragons and my word you will leave this castle alive and free."

"Will you write me a 'right of way' letter? That will serve as my insurance to get away from the Riverlands without one of your Lords on my back."

"I will write you the letter." She agrees. "Bring me Arya and your gold will be ready."

"We'll be back by dusk."

"Guards, let him pass." Ylliria orders, holding Needle tight in her hands. "Lord Umber, prepare the requested sum." She says, going back in the Castle.

"Your Grace, is it what I think it is? Eddard's youngest daughter is in the hands of this animal?" The Greatjon asks her when they are back in the audience room.

She nods, pouring herself a cup of wine and empties it in one long gulp to recover from the shock.

"Let me take twenty good men and we'll hunt him down. We'll bring you back little Arya without paying this..."

"Lord Umber." She cuts him. "I gave him my word that no harm will be done to him. Imagine your attack misses its target and he kills her. Or that he has some men with him. No, I'm not taking any risks. I'll pay him, he hands me Arya and he will be gone by tonight." She takes a second cup of wine, not wanting the Greatjon seeing her shaking hands. "And send a raven to the King and Lady Catelyn to announce the good news."

"As you wish, Your Grace." Lord Umber bows and leaves her alone.

She softly passes her hand along the little sword, remembering the day that Jon had giving it to Arya; the same day he gave her the dagger. And the joy on Arya's face when she showed it to her before leaving with her father to King's Landing. "Gods, please, let this be true. Let us finally have a chance to gather our family again." She whispers.

.

Jon is locked up in a cell five by five, too low for him to stand, too tight for him to fully stretch out on his back and only a few hides that are keeping him barely warm. The only thing he takes comfort from is the little portrait he could hide from the search they made before throwing him in. "I shouldn't have left Winterfell." He whispers in the night before trying to find some sleep. His dreams are transporting him back at the Family Castle again, but it seems to be settled differently. He stands in the middle of the Great Hall, but without recognizing it. He goes up the stairs, but those don't lead to the bedrooms. He crosses a long hallway and falls on a huge balcony. He looks outside to discover a river on the Castle foot. He continues his exploration when he passes by a half-opened door. Through the slit, he sees Ylliria towering over a table full of maps and papers. He tries to call her, but no sound comes out of his mouth. When he pushes the door open, she turns around. "Jon... We'll be there soon." She says, her eyes filled with tears.

Back in his freezing cold cell, Jon wakes up in a start, Ylliria's voice still echoing in his ears. "I'm turning crazy in here... I think I'm starting to lose my mind!" He shakes his head.

Early that same morning and after a whole week in the ice, two soldiers are pulling Jon out of his prison. They march him cramped and shivering back to the King's Tower, to stand before Lord Janos Slynt again.

"That Maester of yours says I cannot hang you. The old fool has written to Cotter Pyke at Eastwatch and he seemed to confirm that you are no turncloak." Slynt tells Jon. "I will not let people say that Janos Slynt has hang a man unjustly. So, I have decided to give you one last chance to prove you're as loyal as you claim, Lord Snow. One last chance to do your duty." He stands up. "Mance Rayder wants to parley with us. But the man is craven and asks that we send an envoy to him."

"And we are sending you, Lord Snow." Sir Alliser smiles.

"Why me?" Jon asks, suspicious.

"You rode with them, right? Mance Rayder knows you. He should be more inclined to trust you." Thorns explains.

"You've got it all backwards..." Jon chuckles.

"He asks for an envoy, we are sending him one." Lord Slynt cuts him. "If you are too craven to face this turncloak King, we will return you to your ice cell. And this time maybe without your furs..."

"No need for that, My Lord." Sir Alliser smirks. "Lord Snow will do as asked. He wants so much to show us that he is no traitor like his father. He wants to prove himself a loyal man of the Night's Watch."

"All right... I'll go." Jon says in a curt voice.

"My Lord." Janos reminds him.

"I'll go, My Lord. But you are sending the wrong man, My Lord. Just the sight of me is going to anger Mance. My Lord would have a better chance to reaching terms if he sends..."

"We have no intentions to make terms with lawless savages." Lord Slynt cuts him again.  
"We are not sending you to talk with Mance Rayder. We are sending you to kill him." Thorne sniggers.

Jon is not fit to kill a harmless kitten, but he understands the trap Thorne has whispered in Slynt's ear. Together they have found the perfect way to get rid of him. Whether he slays Mance or only tries and fails, the free folk will inevitably kill him. And desertion is impossible since in Mance's eyes Jon Snow is now a proven liar and a betrayer. "Let's put an end to this. I'll go." He calmly says.

.

As agreed, the Hound returns to Riverrun at dusk. This time, he mounts his horse and holds another one with a rope.

Ylliria is already waiting for him in the yard with Lord Umber carrying a double saddlebag with the ransom amount.

A frail body sits on the back of the smaller horse, her wrist tied up together and a hessian bag over her head.

"Throw me the bags." Clegane says.

"Let me see her first." Ylliria replies.

Sandor pulls at the rope to approach the animal next to him and removes the bag to reveal her face.

"Ylliria!" Arya shouts out as soon as she recognizes her.

"Lord Umber gives him the saddlebag and takes Arya from her horse." The Queen gently commands him. As soon as the young girl got her wrists untied, she runs into Ylliria's arms. "You leave right now, Clegane, before I change my mind. And I hope never to see your ugly face again." She spitefully says to the Hound. "Guards, be sure he leaves our lands. If you see him making any stop, you kill him without warning." She orders. "Arya, my Sweetling." She grabs the young girl and hugs her tight once more. "Is it really you?" She asks to be certain this was not a dream.

"Ylliria, of course it's me... Don't you recognize your little dragon anymore?" The young girl letting out a small giggle, herself still not fully sure that she finally arrived at the end of her chaotic road. "I really thought I'd never see any of you ever again."

"You are safe now, my dearest. Come, we have tons of things to discuss." She gently leads her inside the Castle.

.


	90. Chapter 90

**My beforehand apologies for this chapter (Reminder: Spoilers on upcoming Season 3), but I really needed to go through this to continue my storyline.**

Chapter 90: Half-Life Decay.

Since Arya's return, Ylliria takes the young girl everywhere with her; afraid she could disappear or be taken away again. She shows her how she runs the morning council; she brings her along her daily round of the castle and tells her everything what is going on in Riverrun. She also presents her to the whole household, the Lords, even the guards; to be sure everyone knows Arya, sister of the King of the North, recognizes her and in case of need, protects her.

Ylliria also let the young girl do what she favors best, the sword dancing, as she calls it. So, she has assigned the Master-at-Arms to make time to train Arya and she always tries to be there to watch her training.

In her bed, Ylliria is thinking of all the good moments she lived in the last few months. The only thing she misses to make her completely happy is to have Robb on her side again.

Unfortunately, this interlude of blissful feelings is suddenly interrupted by some hard knocks on her bedroom door. She instantly wakes up, rapidly puts her night gown and opens it. In front of her stands Lord Umber, a grave look over his face. "Your Grace… Three soldiers just arrived… They are wounded… They rode back from the Twins as fast as they could…" He stutters.

"What? What happened? Were they attacked on their way back?" She worriedly asks, holding tight the door when her legs suddenly starting to tremble.

"The King…" He whispers. "It's terrible… I don't…"

"Is Robb wounded? Are they bringing him back here?... I'm begging you to speak, My Lord!" She raises her voice.

"The King is dead, Your Grace… And the Lady Catelyn as well…"

"Wh…? No…" She steps back into the room. "No! That can't be… What?... Why?" She tumbles against a chair. The Greatjon rushes after her and grabs her in his arms before she falls. "No, he can't be dead… He can't leave us like that… This is all false information…" She pushes him away. "They have misheard. It's not them they are not talking about, for sure."

"Your Grace." Lord Umber softly speaks. "I'm afraid it's all true… Those soldiers were part of the King's Host that went to the Twins."

Ylliria sits on her bed, her gaze staring into space.

"Your Grace, I took the initiative to awake the small council... They are waiting for you in the Great Hall." He takes her hand. "You are the reigning Queen of the North now and urgent decisions must be taken."

"I know... Give me a few minutes to dress. Would you please wait for me at the door?" She whispers.

"Anything Your Grace wants, I will provide." He bows and starts to withdraw.

"How badly wounded are the soldiers that returned?" She suddenly asks, raising her eyes full of tears.

"One just suffers of minor injuries. Another had an arrow in his leg and another in his shoulder, but the Maester said he will survive. The last one is the most critical one and probably will die from the fever he caught along the way."

"Ask to bring the two less injured soldiers to the Hall. I want to hear their story."

"Your Grace, are you sure you want to hear it all?" Lord Umber asks with a concerned voice.

"I know, you want to protect me and that you care for me, My Lord. And I thank you for it." She stands up and grabs a gown that was laying over one of the trunks. "But, unfortunately yes, I have to know every single details on how my husband, my mother and our men died! I probably won't have the possibility to see Robb's remains, so I need this to grief and accept this new twist of fate the Gods have sent me."

"Your Grace." Surprised by her emotionless behavior, he approaches her again and takes her in his arms. "I would like to know the right words to say to you or have the right cure to give you to ease that unimaginable pain you must feel. I would gladly give you my life if that would bring the King back." He gently rocks her when finally burst into tears.

.

Ylliria walks along the hallways at Lord Umber's arm and passes by the whole Household that had decide to gathered along the way to say some comforting words and show her their support. Aside from those whispers, the Castle seems mysteriously silent.

Arriving in the Great Hall, not only the Small Council and the two soldiers are waiting, but also all the Lords and the Captains of the Army, dressed in their war outfits. The Greatjon leads Ylliria to her chair on the dais. At her right side is Arya, a look cold as ice over her face, in the Lady Maege's arms. Before she sits, the young Queen looks around to all the people in front of her. She opens her mouth to speak, but no sound is coming out. She just stays there, immobile.

"Your Grace, these are the two soldiers that have returned from the Twins. You asked to see them?" Lord Umber gently speaks, seeing her distress. He makes a gesture with his hand to request the two men to come forward.

"Your Grace." The less injured soldier bows in front of her, his helmet under his arm.

"What is your name, soldier?" She says with a broken voice, going down from the dais and approaching them.

"Ralf, Your Grace."

"And where are you coming from, Ralf?"

"I'm a soldier under Lord Umber's command. I was born in Last Hearth. My mother is a maid in the Lord's Castle, Your Grace."

"Give the other one a chair to sit. Don't you see he can barely stand?" She suddenly thunders to one of the captains standing behind. "And what is your name?" Her voice instantly becoming softer, putting a hand under his arm to support him and helping him to sit.

"I'm Giles, Your Grace. Thank you, Your Grace is very kind."

She gives him a little smile. "And where do you come from, Giles?"

"From a little village east of the Dreadfort. I'm fighting with our good Lord Bolton, Your Grace."

"Soldiers, what I ask from you is very simple. I want you to tell me everything that happened. Don't spare me any details. Can you promise me that?"

"Your Grace... It was worse than the Seven Hells back there." Ralf pleads.

"Everything, please." Ylliria insists.

"It was raining hard the day of the wedding... Like the four days before that." Giles starts. "We had set camp on one side of the river. They had given us wagons full of barrels of wine and ale to feast as well. Apart for the guards around the walkway of the tower, everything seemed to be normal. The Frey Host's camp was settled across, on the other bank. There was another feast in the second Tower for the lesser Lords and the bastards, some said."

"We saw the tents and the braziers glowing on the other side and all." Ralf continues. "All we could hear, coming from inside of the Castle, was the music and the drums that were pounding endlessly in that same rhythm. We didn't realize what was happening till the Frey soldiers charged upon us. They were suddenly coming from every side around our encampment. They must have planned this in advance, if you ask me."

"It was said that the Lord Walder had refused to allow the Direwolf to stay with the King in the Hall during the feast. So, that is why the animal was with us. He was the first one to know that something was going wrong, but we didn't pay attention to him. I'm so sorry, Your Grace. Maybe if we had..." Giles starts to sob.

"You couldn't know this, Giles... I don't blame any of you. What became of Grey Wind?" Ylliria softly says.

"He suddenly ran inside before they lift the drawbridge. We didn't see him after that. A group of twenty tried to enter the tower to rescue the King too. But, those bastards had put archers on every embrasure. It was plain massacre, Your Grace." Ralf explains. "I am not a coward for sure, but I knew that we were lost for sure and that they would murder us to the last one. That is why Giles, Allen and I fled to the woods. We hide there for about three days, so we could see what they were up to next. Some Frey's horsemen were passing by from time to time, but they didn't seem to search for us. And when we were sure that the way was free, we stole some horses and we rode here to warn you... Now, Your Grace, I am ready to go back there with a whole army to kill them all. We will avenge our King, Your Grace! Ask me anything, I'll do it for you."

"You already did more than enough, Ralf. And far from me to think of you as cowards. What did you see when you were hiding into the woods?" She asks, her voice becoming more and more hoarse.

"Oh, Your Grace... It's better not..." Ralf and Giles worriedly look to Lord Umber.

"You promised me, soldiers, to tell me the whole truth. I need to know." She suddenly realizes that Arya was still sitting next to her. "Lady Maege would you please bring Arya back to her room?"

"NO!" The young girl yells. "I need to know too! Don't send me away, Ylliria, please." She pleads.

"You suffered enough already. You saw your father's death, my Sweetling. And all the tortures you told me about. I know you are strong, but I want to spare you this." She softly speaks, kneeling in front of her.

"Why do YOU want to know then? Dead is dead, right?" Arya hardly says.

"You gently follow the Lady Maege, all right? I will come to see you later and we will talk." Ylliria firmly stands, Lady Mormont already dragging the young girl away from the Hall. "Continue." She orders to the two soldiers.

Giles cleared his throat. "Ahum... Well, when the battle was finished, they started to throw dead bodies from the tower into the river. It was pitch dark and from where we were, we could not recognize any of them. We ran along the bank, the trees were hiding us still and we followed the stream. Unfortunately, all the bodies we could grab were dead. Some had stab wounds, others had their throat slashed... But, none of them was the King."

"So, you are not sure he is dead?" She asks with a little bit of hope.

"Oh no, Your Grace, we are sure the King is... We saw him."

"Why didn't you bring his body then?"

"We couldn't, Your Grace. They attached him at the top of the tower." Ralf's voice slowly fainting and a long murmur starting to raise in the Hall.

"Attached him how? Hanged, you mean?" Her own voice starting to tremble.

"No, he was tied up on a wooden cross that they rose up the tower. That Frey monster had behead our King... And..." Ralf looks at his friend, unable to continue to tell the story.

Ylliria suddenly lacks air in her lungs, panic striking her all over, her heart pinched between the pliers of the raising pain. She tightly grabs the armchairs of her throne, trying not to faint or showing her sudden weakness to all.

"Your Grace." Lord Umber slowly comes. "Maybe we should adjourn this meeting for now."

"NO! Soldiers, continue your story! I want to hear it all now! This is my last gentle warning. Don't push me to make you flogged to get it out of you!" She barks, making the other Lords startle at her comment.

"They had sewed the head of his Direwolf in its place. That's how we know the animal perished too. And they nailed the King's crown around his ears." Ralf finally ends.

Ylliria's face turns white at a ghost, her jawbone tighten closed, a heavy silence falling over the Hall.

"I will kill Walder Frey with my own hands!... I will kill this bloody old man and all his filthy descendants... One by one! Till the whole House Frey is decimated and crawling down the Seven Hells!" She suddenly stands up and yells across the Great Hall.

"Your Grace." Lord Umber calmly calls her again.

"WHAT IS IT, LORD UMBER?" Her eyes throwing fire.

"Your grief is tremendous, Your Grace. Let me please lead you to your room. You need to have a moment alone."

Ylliria looks around. "OUT! ALL OF YOU! DISMISS! Or whatever other command there is to vanish you all from my sight!" Her whole body starting to shake.

When the Hall is empty, she lets herself fall on her throne, an elbow on the armchair and a hand supporting her throbbing head. She starts to ventilate, till finally a huge scream of pain comes out of her while she slowly slides from the chair. Lord Umber arrives just in time to catch her when she falls unconscious. He takes her in his arms and carries her to the bedroom. "Go fetch Maester Vyman?" He orders Sir Wylis Manderly, her personal guard.

.


	91. Chapter 91

Chapter 91: What does not kill you makes you stronger.

Ylliria slowly opens her eyes and tries to speak. Lady Maege immediately rushes at her bedside. "Your Grace."

"Thirst." She whispers with a husky voice.

The Lady helps her to drink a few sips of fresh water.

"Ylliria." Arya gently comes, sitting on the other side of the bed.

"Since how long am I here?" Ylliria softly asks.

"A whole week."

"I need to get up... The Council... Help me, will you?"

"Go get Lord Umber and tell him the Queen is awake." Lady Maege asks Arya. "Your Grace, you have to stay abed. So said the Maester. You are still weak." She gently presses on Ylliria's shoulder and pulls the furs to cover her again. "I will prepare the tonic potion that Maester Colemon has prescribed. If you give it another two or three days, Your Grace will be back on her feet as good as new." She tries to be cheerful, continuing to tuck the Queen in.

"We don't have those days, My Lady. I need to see my Council. Decisions has to be taken." Ylliria insists.

"For now, let the men do that for you, Your Grace. You have to deal with a great deal of pain. Hiding it or telling yourself it is not there will be the dead of you, believe me. I know..." Lady Maege gently reprimands her.

"Your Grace." Lord Umber bursts in the bedroom. "We were all so worried about you. We thought we had lost you too. You were not waking up. The Maester told us you had a stroke... In your head." He grabs her hand, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I'm awake now, My Lord. Did you receive some more news from the Twins?"

"Not much, Your Grace." He lifts his eyes to the Lady Maege.

"Your son? And your daughter, Lady Maege? They were with the King..." Ylliria asks, looking at them.

"The dead are countless and there is a lot of confusion too. Other than the King, we do not have any other certitudes yet." He gently explains. "I took the liberty to send some men on the way to the Twins and try to retrieve any other survivors or any other info about what exactly happened there."

"You did well, Lord Umber. Thank you. Advise the Council that we will meet tomorrow morning."

"Your Grace, this is certainly not wise..."

"Tomorrow morning, My Lord." Ylliria sternly repeats.

"Very well, Your Grace. But, promise me you stay in bed today and still gain some strengths."

"I would gladly eat some soup with bread." She smiles at the Lady.

"I'll get you that immediately." Arya's voice comes from the other side of the room.

"And how is she?" Ylliria whispers at Lord Umber when the young girl was gone.

"The Little Lady is very strong. And she learns fast." He gives her a reassuring smile. "She's running around the Castle giving orders and duties to the whole household as it was you doing it."

Tears are suddenly running down Ylliria's face.

"Oh, Your Grace?" He takes both her hands in his.

"I'm sorry. I should be like her. A Queen must be strong."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. You are strong."

She nods, looking away and staring at nothing again.

.

The potion Lady Maege gives Ylliria at bedtime, instantly puts her into a sort of blithely numbness where the pain seems to have vanished for a moment and quickly puts her into a deep sleep. She floats obliviously around in the twists and turns of her memories, but the respite is short-lived. She sees images of Robb approaching her, taking her in his arms, caressing her, telling her how much he loves her. "You need to be strong, My Love. And you need to find Jon. He will protect you. Promise me you'll go to him." He smiles at her when suddenly his head takes an awkward angle and soon falls off his shoulders on her lap, the white sheets turning into a sticky and wet red. "I will avenge you my love." She whispers, clinging to that hope that was feeding the flame withing her broken heart. Anger is better than tears, better than grief and better than guilt. She lets out a scream, waking up in a start.

Wylis Manderly, her personal guard, jumps out of the chair he was dozing in. "What is it, Your Grace?"

"I... Nothing... I made that dream... But..." She slowly shakes her head, pushing her up to sit on her bed. "Hum, Sir Wylis will you please call my maids to help me dress?"

"Are you sure...?"

Ylliria sends him a side look.

"At once, Your Grace." He runs out the door.

She is holding her chest as the pain within rises again. She can now clearly feel the deep hole inside of her. It is like a hollow place, an emptiness where her heart once was and where love had a good place in it. "I need to fill it with something else, now. And I know what that will be..." She tells herself. Her head is hurting too. "Probably some leftover effects from the potion." She says for herself, pushing the bedsheets and the furs away from her and slowly going out of the bed. She feels her legs wobbling under her, she grabs the nightstand to stabilize herself before making another step. After a huge effort, she finally arrives in front of her dressing table. She pours some water in a bowl and splashes her face with it. She raises her head towards the metal mirror to discover a large white lock on her right side between her dark-red hair. "This will serve to remind me to never forget..." She whispers, turning it around a finger and letting the tears making her way down her cheeks.

_._

The Small Council is already gathered in the private audience room when Ylliria is making her entrance. Aware that she is still weak from the stroke she had, she agreed to let Sir Wylis help her to walk. He gently leads her to her chair. She has chosen to wear the gown in the colors of House Stark; the same one she wore at her coronation.

"Please, My Lords, sit down!" She says in a clear voice when she sees the whole group still standing and staring at her. "We have, I fear, a lot to discuss and to decide. Let us start at once. The quicker we'll finish, the quicker we can continue our mourning process for all the dear ones we have lost." She sits down, Sir Wylis staying behind her. "What is the latest situation." She asks around before any of them could voice any protest.

"There is a lot of talk among our men, Your Grace. A lot of self-made stories about what happened at the Twins are starting to spread around. I think we need to make an official statement as soon as possible." Lord Jason Mallister, hand of the Queen, opens the debate.

"I will personally talk to our soldiers and the smallfolk of Riverrun. Organize a gathering in the yard for tomorrow morning. They need to see that their Queen is still with them and can handle the situation."

"Very well, Your Grace." Lord Jason answers, giving a quick worried look to Lord Umber.

"I will not pretend that I feel fine, My Lord, far from." She tells him, having noticed his glance. "The pain is boundless, like it must be for all of you that have lost a family member or a friend. But, my husband made me promise to reign in his behalf till the North has a new King. And that is what I'm intend to do, in memory of him and in respect for all of you that have followed him into this war." She says, fighting the tears that were coming up again.

"And we will do everything that Your Grace commands and stay at your side." Lord Umber replies.

"Thank you, My Lord." She gives them a faint smile. "Now that all said, please let us carry on."

"Your Grace, we receive several tidings." Lord Mallister continues. "I'm afraid the news of our King's death has spread as fast as smallpox. It seems that Sir Daven, a cousin of the Lannisters, and Sir Forley Prester from the Golden Tooth have regroup their armies and are ready to march towards Riverrun. If we wait too long to move, this will cut our way up North and our possibility to rejoin Lord Bolton's men. And Sir Ryman Frey is also leading two thousand spears down from the Twins to join them."

"Late Lord Frey must have learned from its previous battle actions. He didn't wait long to turn his cloak." Sir Brynden Tully, Catelyn and Edmure's uncle, comments with irony.

"I suppose that all of this was well planned in advance. There is no doubt in my mind that the Lannisters are behind all of it." Lord Umber alleges.

"Your Grace, many of the Northern smaller Lords demand to return home to defend their own lands against the Ironmen. Should we let them go?" Sir Brynden requests.

"How many men do we speak off?" Ylliria asks him.

"At least half of what we have. If we let them go, that will mean we have a small three thousand left."

Ylliria heavily sighs, realizing that she is trapped in a same deadlock Robb was. She cannot fight the Lannisters, the Freys and the Greyjoys with what is left over of his Host. But she does not intend to surrender either. "Lord Umber, any returns from the men you send on the roads to the Twins?"

"Another small group of survivors arrived yesterday, Your Grace. That's how those new stories are spreading around town. It seems the massacre started after the bedding of Lord Edmure and his newlywed. Nobody saw him nor her after that."

"So, there is a small chance my uncle could still be alive and taken as hostage. And what about the Lady Catelyn?"

The Greatjon sadly shakes his head for an answer.

"Those Freys are cursed. The King was sitting at his table. He was a guest beneath Walder's roof." Lord Jason Mallister comments.

"They murder our children in breach of all the sacred Laws of Hospitality." Maester Vyman thunders, speaking for the first time and waving an accusing finger in the air.

"The food and drinks were shared under the host's roof. They were under the Guest Rights! It's a plain violation..." Lord Wyman Manderly adds.

Ylliria, slowly standing up, bangs a fist on the table. "My Lords! The North has lost its King! A young girl lost her mother and her brother! Some of you have lost fathers or sons... And I lost my husband... And all you can find to say about it is that the Laws of hospitality were broken?" She barks before heavily falling on her chair again, her legs giving way beneath her.

"Your Grace..." Sir Wylis rushes next to her, handing her a cup of tonic to drink.

When she gives him back the empty cup, she sends a nasty look around. "What I ask from you, My Lords, is to give me council and plans to work with." She speaks in a more calmly voice. "Are we capable to attack the Twins or not?"

"I'm afraid not, Your Grace. With the amount of men that were lost in front of the Twins, we do not have the number anymore to launch such an attack." Lord Umber darkly says. "Nevertheless, the King needs to be avenge of this act of infamy."

"And he will be, My Lord... But, I will not send our small army into a suicide mission either! We need to find another way... Or find new allies." Ylliria states.

"Your Grace, we do not have the time for negotiations. Something needs to be done and fast... Before anyone could think we are cowards." Lady Maege protests.

"I said, no more massacres!" Ylliria cuts her. "Getting us all dead will not bring anyone back. And it will let a free passage to any of our enemies to take the North and the Riverlands for good." She lays an elbow on the armchair for her hand to support her head attacked by a sudden splitting headache. "Could we make a pause, My Lords? I need a moment alone."

"You heard the Queen! Everybody out!" Lord Umber barks, pushing them to the door and closes it behind him. Only Sir Wylis Manderly stayed, pouring her a cup of wine this time.

"Thank you, Wylis. You may go as well."

"I will be just behind the door, if you need me."

Finally alone in the room, Ylliria starts to wonder. "The Northmen don't lack for courage, but they are far from home and for a long time now. I must be strong." She tells herself. "I must be strong for them. I must be strong to avenge Robb, the Lady Catelyn and all the once that were savagely killed. If I despair, my grief will consume me and for what? But even so, what chances do we have, caught between Lannisters, Greyjoys and now Freys as well."

She remembers how Robb studied his maps for days and nights, searching for a plan. "I will have to do the same and maybe I will find some force to continue his mission."

_._


	92. Chapter 92

Chapter 92: Making plans for the future.

After the evening supper, Ylliria is withdrawing to the private audience room again.

"It is for days now that you are consulting your Small Council and after that you lock yourself up in that room. Will you finally telling me what we are going to do? I'm not a little girl anymore. I'm old enough to understand. And maybe, I can even help you, Ylliria." Arya pleads, following her in the hallway.

"I know, Sweetling. And you will help me, I promise you that. But, for now, I really need to be alone to think. Do you hear my Lords complaining about this situation? Do you see them following me around?"

"No... But, I thought... It's not good to be alone with the pain. I lived that and it's no good. I can teach you a prayer that will help you to bear... Say 'Valar morghulis'."

"Valar morghulis... What does that mean?"

"And then, the names of all the people that made you suffer."

"What does 'Valar morghulis' mean, Arya?" Ylliria stops in the middle of the hall to face the young girl.

"It means 'All men must die'... It's High Valyrian."

"And who told you that?"

"A friend I met during my captivity at Harrenhal called Jaqen H'ghar... It works, Ylliria. I saw it with my own eyes."

"It's wrong to wish other persons' death, even your enemies. It's unholy and unworthy of our rank." She gently explains.

"When it's the only hope you have left, you don't burden yourself with those kinds of details, Ylliria." The young girl angrily snaps before walking away.

"Arya, Sweetling..." Ylliria calls her back.

"Do you want me to go after her, Your Grace?" Sir Wylis asks.

"No, I will talk with her later. Her behavior is understandable. She lived through a lot for her young age. We can't blame her for having such thoughts."

"Permission to speak, Your Grace."

"You don't have to ask me that, Wylis. Of course you may."

"With my brother Wendel dead at the Twins, unholy or not, I would be tempted to make that same prayer if I was certain it worked." He frowns.

"Will that bring back your brother, Wylis? Don't you prefer seeking revenge on a battle field, sword in hand, piercing the heart of your enemy?"

"Of course, but…" He nods.

"Well, that is what I am looking for all of us now."

"Your Grace? On the bones of my brother, I swear to stay forever faithful to you and be your avenging arm when the time will come. And that, till my last breath." He opens the door for her, letting her in.

"And till my last breath, I will seek that all of you have their due. Thank you, Sir." She gently presses his forearm with a smile before locking herself up.

.

Ylliria, in front of Robb's working table, reviews the list of the Bannermen willing to stay and the ones that have requested to go back North. And the count is worse than what Sir Brynden Tully had hoped for. All in all, from the twenty thousand men that followed Robb from Winterfell, only a thousand and eight hundred now left over.

"I could maybe ask Lord Westerling for help?" She tells herself, grabbing one of the self-made books, bounded with thin rope, that Robb used to write in everything he knew about the towns, villages and Castles he crossed with his Army. "I miss you so much." She lightly brushes her fingers over his characteristic handwriting before searching for the chapter she wanted. "Here it is. The Crag... Hold by Lord Gawen Westerling." She starts to read. "Good stronghold along the coast. Port partially abandoned, but can be re-build if necessary. Waters deep enough to moor Longships of medium tonnage. Garrison of a little more than a thousand men strong... Better than nothing." She shrugs. "If only I could find two or three more Castles with Lords willing to form a new alliance with the North." She looks for a map of the region. "The Frey's act of infamy might have shocked even the ones that were once against us." She flattens it and starts to look for names.

Soft knocks on the door, suddenly pulls her out of her thinking. "Your Grace?" Sir Wylis's head peeks through the doorway. "Sorry to disturb, but Lord Umber asks to see you."

"Oh, good... Let him in, I need to speak with him too."

"Your Grace." The Greatjon bows. "I was thinking that maybe a cup of good Dornish wine might be welcome." He shows her the jug he has in his hands.

"Only if you share one with me, My Lord." She cracks a little smile.

"It is now for nearly two weeks that you shut yourself in here for hours till the middle of the night, Your Grace. The Lady Arya and the Lady Maege started to get worried and called me to check on you." He pours two cups and hands one to her.

"I am just trying out my husband's method. He always found his best plans when he was alone in here for days and nights in a row." She looks all over the room. "I can feel like a part of him is still around. His books, his writing, his favorite cloak, his drinking cup, his dagger... All are here. And I try to take some strength out of those objects." She stands up and starts to pace around the room.

"Your Grace may not forget that her health is still fragile."

"I scrupulously take my medication, My Lord. And Maester Vyman examines me every morning. I feel better every day. My health is the least of my concerns right now."

Lord Umber is about to protest, when she cuts him. "I was thinking to marry the Heir of Westerling, Sir Raynald. And have their men with us to protect the West and the Riverlands. That would be an option." She drinks a gulp of the wine.

"Remarried so soon, Your Grace?" The Greatjon softly mouths.

"There isn't much risk for me to bare a Westerling's child; if that is what you fear, My Lord. I know a few of their family little secrets. Even if he is good looking and extremely charming with women, Raynald mostly prefers the company of men." She smiles. "And like the Edict clearly stipulates, children conceived in a second wedding won't be able to claim dominion over the North. I was just thinking to make a new ally and the West is the nearest. Would that make us stronger or weaker or does it not helps us at all? I don't know." She looks through the window hoping to find an answer to that.

"Even if the Westerling are loyal to the North, their count of men will not give us a full Army, Your Grace. And the few soldiers Lord Gawen might have, he probably wants to keep them to guard his own Castle and lands that might soon be threatened by the Freys as well. The Lannisters are taking new grounds in the region every day. More and more Lords are now convinced that the North is lost."

"Dead end, thus." She sighs, sipping at her cup again. "Thank you for your good council, My Lord. I will continue to search other options then."

"After a few hours' sleep, maybe?" The Greatjon tries.

"Not yet, but I will take some rest, I promise." She turns towards the window again, making Lord Umber understand that the meeting is resumed.

"Good night, Your Grace." He says just before closing the door.

She makes a few steps back and stands in front of the working table again. "Useless!" She suddenly utters, wiping the table clean with an ample gesture of her arm and making the lose papers and maps twirling all around her. A black seal on a small squared parchment suddenly catches her attention. She picks it up from the floor and approaches it from the candle to have a better look on the details. "The Night's Watch seal. This is a message from Maester Aemon of Castle Black." She whispers, starting to read. "To the Five Kings. The King-beyond-the-Wall is coming South. He leads a vast Host of Wildlings. Lord Commander Mormont sent us a raven from the Haunted Forest. He is under attack. Other birds have come since, but without messages. We fear Mormont slain with all his strength." She drops the letter on the table. "Robb, you were telling me this in my dream and I did not listening to you as I should... I'm so sorry, My Love... But, I got your message now..." She looks at the ceiling, sending a kiss to the sky. "The North still has an Heir and a King... What I need now is to find a way to get our Army to the Wall." She rummages in the stack of papers on the floor to retrieve the maps.

.

After a sleepless night, Ylliria calls for her Small Council to gather in the private audience room. "My Lords, I might have found some way out and would like to submit it to your counsel."

"We are all ears, Your Grace." Lord Mallister says with an encouraging smile.

"Sir Wylis, does your family still have a fleet staged at White Harbor?" Ylliria asks her personal guard.

"A fleet, Your Grace? No more than half a dozen Longships and two war galleys. But, those are just enough to defend the east side of the shores against raiders. I do not see them meeting against the Iron-Island's fleet in battle."

"That is not my intention, Sir, have no fear. I have other plans for those ships, but that will be for later. All I need for now is just one of them to sail to the Bay of Crabs, waiting for us to arrive at the mouth of the Red Fork and take us to Dragonstone."

"Dragonstone? What would you possibly look for in Dragonstone, Your Grace?" Lord Mallister asks.

"A new Ally." She smiles.

"You want us to join Stannis Baratheon?" Lord Umber comes, skeptical.

"He has practically lost his whole strength in his battle against King's Landing. But, we know that he has not renounced to his claim over the Iron Throne. What options does he actually have to obtain what he wants? The same as us, none. He was never officially an enemy of the North from what I know of. Not so long ago Robb was ready to make terms with his younger brother Renly, didn't he?"

"True, but what good could come out to gather with Stannis?"

"He wants the Iron Throne and we want to throw our enemies out of the North. Neither of us can do that and neither of us wants to see the Lannisters take it all. I am convinced Stannis will listen to what we have to propose and that we have good grounds to start an alliance."

"And who will you send to parley with him?"

"I will go myself."

"Your Grace, be reasonable." Lord Umber protests. "We are nearly surrounded, armies coming from all sides. You won't make a third of the way without being caught and taken as hostage. Not to mention those groups of outlaws running wild everywhere."

"Not if we travel under a false identity and make our way down along the Red Fork River."

"And where are you going to find a trustworthy barge-captain to take you there?" Sir Wylis asks, concerned.

"When I fled Winterfell, I traveled with the Sisters of the Health God and they have a whole network of friends and partisans of their order all over the Realm. I still have Mother's Clarise's letters of passage. We will travel safely." Ylliria explains. "And Lord Mallister will issue a safe-conduct, making us wool merchants going to King's Landing for the annual Wool Fair."

"Your Grace, you are talking as 'we'? Who will go with you?" Lord Mallister asks.

"To complete our disguise, Sir Wylis will be my husband and Arya, our daughter."

"All right, let's imagine you arrive to Stannis. And he agrees to parley and ally with us. We still won't have a sufficient host to fight against any of our foes." The Greatjon says.

"When did I say that we will?" She smiles, turning towards Lord Umber. "My Lord, you will lead our left over army to White Harbor and be ready to embark on Manderly's ships. I think the time you'll need to arrive and prepare; I will have concluded an agreement with King Stannis and be on our way to rejoin you there."

"Your Grace, may we know what will be our end destination?" Lord Mallister insists.

"North, My Lords. We are going to the Wall." She smirks.

.


	93. Chapter 93

Chapter 93: To Maidenpool.

In the early misty morning, a two-horsed wagon loaded with ten bales of fresh cut wool and some personal effects is waiting in the yard. Ylliria, dressed with a simple woolen brown gown, under a greenish-blue cloak, reviews for one last time the details of their plan with Lord Umber. "You will leave Sir Brynden with two hundred men to hold Riverrun. And you will depart for White Harbor in small groups at one day's apart to get less noticeable."

"Aye, Your Grace. Don't you worry. We all know exactly what we have to do."

"Good... And use ravens only in extreme circumstances. We will see each other again at our meeting point in The Bite near the Three Sisters Islands."

"May the Gods protect you, Your Grace." Lady Maege taking her unexpectedly in her arms.

"And may the Gods protect all of you too." Ylliria says around.

Lord Mallister approaches Sir Manderly that is making the round of the horse and carriage, checking if the coupling and the load are firmly attached. "You keep an eye on them both. They are the future of the North." He whispers in the young guard's ear.

"On my life, My Lord." Wylis accepting the Lord's stretched out hand and shakes it.

"Time to go." Ylliria yells, climbing the wagon to sit next to Arya.

Wylis snaps the reins and the convoy sets in motion. Apart from the mist, the weather is dry. It didn't rain for several days and the road would be easy, at least till the fork.

"So, what is my name again, Your Grace?" Wylis suddenly breaking the silence.

"Ailwin. And you will have to stop calling me 'Your Grace'."

"That won't be as easy as that. You are my Queen and I'm only a knight."

"Not since we left Riverrun. From now on, my name is Belinda. Just see me as a new person, Sweetheart." She jests, making Arya laugh.

"Oh, so can I spank my daughter too if she does not behave properly?" The young guard jokes as well.

"I'm way too old to be spanked!" She retorts.

"He was just fooling with you, Beth." Ylliria gently taps on her thigh.

"How long till we reach the fork?" Arya asks.

"If all goes well, by the end of the afternoon." Wylis answers. "Were did you come up with those names, Your...? Hum... Belinda?"

"Belinda was the kitchen-maid at Winterfell and a dear friend of mine. She wed the miller's son, Ailwin... That all seems to have happened so long ago. I just hope they are still alive and living with their son somewhere safe." She gazes away.

"And I chose my own name." Arya says, taking Ylliria hand in hers.

"Beth, huh? Where does that come from?" The young man asks.

"When I was a captive, I invented a whole list of names to use. And Beth was one character that I never had the chance to bring up yet." She sadly explains, looking at her feet.

"Beth was the Master-at-Arms' daughter in Winterfell." Ylliria adds.

"You both dearly miss your Castle, I can hear. I'm really sorry what happened to it." Wylis tries to comfort them.

"Thank you, Sir. But, it is made of stone and wood. And it can be re-build... For the people that lived with us and that were brutally killed..." Ylliria leaves the rest of her sentence hanging in the air.

.

As foreseen, they arrived at the confluence an hour before sunset. Sir Wylis goes to the little wooden cabin on the bank to raise the flag advising any passing barge that someone is waiting to be picked up.

"We better set camp. I don't think we'll see one passing by today." He tells Ylliria already looking in the wagon for the tent, the cookware and everything they might need to pass the night as comfortably as possible.

Under a clear sky full of stars, the three of them are surrounding the campfire where a fish, that Wylis has catch in the river, is slowly cooking with some onions, turnips and carrots.

"Smells delicious." The young man bends over the saucepan, enjoying the flavors. "I would never have imagined that a Queen could cook."

"I was not born to be one in the first place. And I spend a lot of time in Winterfell's kitchens with my friend Belinda. I learned a thing or two by watching her doings." Ylliria smiles, filling a plate and passing it to Arya's.

They eat the fish with brown bread and some ale to wash it down.

"I have hide Needle in my trunk. Did you take yours too? If we will see Jon, we must have them." Arya comes as they were putting away the cleaned cookware back in the trunk.

"Oh yes, I have it." The young woman tapes on her thigh were she had tied up the sheath of her dagger.

"I didn't know you were fond of sewing." Wylis arrives with the rest of the things, making the two other laugh. "What did I say that was so funny? You were talking about needles."

"Needle is the name of my sword." Arya giggles.

"And you have a sword? Sure..." He shrugs.

"A small one, aye... And I can use it too! I had lessons from a real Braavosi Water Dancer." She snaps.

"Impressive!"

"Do you mock me again, Dad?" She smirks saying that.

"No, not this time, little Beth." He smiles. "What is it made of?"

"Valyrian steel and it was made especially for me by the blacksmith of Winterfell." She proudly says.

"May I see it?"

The young girl looks at Ylliria that gently nods and starts to rummage in her small trunk. "Here it is! Careful, it's not a toy!" She says, using the exact words Jon used when he gave it to her.

"I think Wylis... Sorry, I mean Ailwin knows how to handle a sword, dear." Ylliria smiles.

"You are right, we should start to get used to our fake names. That would avoid confusion." Wylis adds, admiring Needle. "Indeed, a very nice piece of work. This Jon lad must like you a lot."

"He is my brother and I like him a lot too. I can't wait to see him again."

"You will have to be very patient, Sweetling. We still have a lot to cover and no insurance that Stannis will even grant us an audience." The young woman says with a point of defeatism in her voice.

"Hey..." Wylis softly taking her hand. "We will get to Dragonstone and he will listen to you, I'm sure. You have that way with people. You know how to talk to them and make them listen." He encourages her.

"We'll see." She sighs. "We should get some sleep now. The way will be long and exhausting." She concludes.

.

The next morning, they were awaken by the sound of a horn-blow in a distance. Wylis rushes out the tent. "A barge at the approach." He yells, waving his arms above his head towards the boat.

"What is your first impression?" Ylliria asks him.

"I don't see the boned black flag of the smugglers floating at the rear, if that is what you want to know." He smiles.

"Don't mock me." She gives him a soft slap on the shoulder.

"I'll talked to the captain. Make ourselves ready to embark." He gently requests.

"Where are you going?" A huge moustachioed man calls from the barge, coming near the bank.

"Maidenpool, with my wife and daughter and my load of wool."

"One Silver Stag for the whole of it. A cabin, food and drinks included."

"Fair enough." Wylis answers, rummaging in his woolen doublet to find the coin. "How long to Maidenpool?"

"Five days maximum. Four, if we are lucky." The captain throwing the young man a thick rope to moor the barge. "Come on, lads! Let us embark this family... And make it presto! I don't want to stay here all day!" He yells at his two helpers. Less than an hours later, they were already descending the river again.

Their cabin was small but clean with just one bunk. "Don't worry. I'll sleep on the floor." Wylis says when he noticed the size of the bed. They took a part of the day to settle down and to help preparing diner, at the captain's satisfaction.

"This Realm amazes me still." He comments at the end of the meal. "We have Kings in every corner, war in every county and burglary, thefts, rapes, murders everywhere to turn you completely paranoiac. But still, at the bend of a meander, you'll encounter people full of hope and willing to help their fellow man." He drinks a long gulp of his wine.

"It's a first for us to share the table with a captain and a poet." Ylliria toasts with her own cup, making him guffaw.

"I travel this land since I'm six years old and I'm fifty seven now. I can narrate so much tales about it, that we'll have enough time to make the round of Westeros twice. I saw the good, the beautiful, the bad and the ugly... But, my life along the rivers taught me one thing, my dear. And that is that only the good and the beautiful are worth to live and to remember."

"A wise thought." Wylis says, pouring for himself another cup of wine.

"I don't want to appear rude, my friends, but this barge still cannot maneuver by itself. I'll leave you for the night. And thank you for this nice diner." The captain raises from his chair.

"Good night, Captain." The two young ones voice together.

"Do you want some more wine?" Wylis asks Ylliria when the Captain at close the door.

"Just half a cup, thank you."

"There is a question that bothers me for days now." He sits next to her.

"Go ahead... Ask..."

"We'll go fight and save the Wall… And then what?"

"We re-conquer the North and get our vengeance over the Freys… With our new Lord."

"A bastard can't become a Lord."

"Don't call him that!" She flings.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to offend..." The young man apologizes.

"As per the King's Decree, he named as new Heir of the North his half-brother Jon Snow. And by this he becomes the next Lord of Winterfell and a Stark."

"But, he might be dead already, as far as we know."

"This is a risk I'm willing to take… We went through all possible options and none other is as hopeful as this one. At least, most of us might see home and our families again."

"You seemed to know him well."

"Who? Jon?... Aye. We were raised together with the Stark children. He is a natural leader with a high sense of justice. He is honorable, valiant and protective. He will be a good Lord of Winterfell, I'm sure. Our Master-at-Arms, Rodrik Cassel often said that Jon has a lot of Lord Eddard in him and that is true."

"I spoke with Arya earlier today and she spoke of him the same way. Must be a hell of a man. And that makes me eager to meet him."

"May the Gods hear your wish, Sir." She gets up. "I think I'll call it for the day and rejoin Arya. She must already be fast asleep."

"I'll be with you later. I like to lean on the front rail and watch the night reflecting in the waters."

"Oh dear, poetry must be contagious on this barge." She laughs.

.


	94. Chapter 94

Chapter 94: A long way to meet a King

Walking around Maidenpool's harbor, Wylis easily spots the ship send by his family from White Harbor and that will bring them to Dragonstone.

"The Gods are good to us." Ylliria comments when he tells her.

"The ship is named the 'Rainbow Dasher' and it is ready to depart whenever you like. The Captain wanted to know exactly why his orders were to sail to Dragonstone. I told him that you would fill him in once we will be at sea."

"All right. But we need to be careful none the less and try not to interact too much with the rest of the crew during the crossing. Not that I don't trust your family, but sailors are often very talkative when they drink too much cheap wine. I prefer having our journey as discreet as possible. And the less anyone knows, the best." Ylliria explains to Wylis before turning towards Arya. "So for you, no wondering around the ship."

"Aye, Mom." The young girl shrugs.

"I managed to sell the horses and the wagon." She hands the young man the little purse with coins.

"Your Grace... I..." He hesitates to take it.

"Hush!" She cuts him. "We need to look like a normal couple. We never know who is watching us right now." She whispers.

"I'm sorry... You're right." He promptly hides it in his woolen doublet.

"Who's hungry? I saw a nice tavern up that little street." Ylliria points up a small hill. "We could have a nice meal before embarking, what do you think?" She shoves one arm around Wylis' and surrounds Arya's shoulder with the other.

.

The captain of the 'Rainbow Dasher' gives them his own cabin, which is the most comfortable on the ship.

"If the winds are right, we should reach Dragonstone Island in less than a week." He tells them when they embark.

To kill time during the crossing, Wylis mingles with the crew to listen to their conversations, hoping to grab some latest news about the Realm. One evening, he comes stumbling down in their cabin. "Your Grace? I hear the strangest news tonight. They say that King Joffrey is dead."

"What? When?" Ylliria asks.

"During his wedding with the Lady Margaery Tyrell, it seems. He choked on a morsel of food. But some were saying that he might have been poisoned."

"There is obviously something amiss with weddings lately." Arya darkly comments.

"And do you know who they suspect to have done it?"

Both women shake their heads.

"Tyrion Lannister." He says in a conspiring tone.

"What? The Imp?"

"All King's Landing is looking for him. They even put a price on his head."

"Sansa? Was there anything said about her?" Ylliria worriedly comes.

"I asked about her. Don't worry, they don't suspect anything... From what they know, Sansa fled King's Landing before it happened."

"Fled? Where?" Arya eagerly requests.

"They didn't know. She just vanished in thin air the day before the wedding." He shrugs.

"The important of all this is that we know she's alive. We'll find here, Arya." Ylliria puts a reassuring hand on the young girl's shoulder. "Who is on the Iron Throne now?" She asks Wylis.

"The last of Cercei's son, Tommen. But since he is still too young to rule, we may assume that it's actually the Queen that holds the reins."

"Well, I don't like to think that way, but this unexpected death might be a blessing for our little project. Stannis will certainly be more flexible to parley with us knowing this. Especially if we come to help him to get what he wants. I am more and more convinced that the Gods are approving our enterprise."

"I didn't know you were so religious." Wylis says.

"I need to cling to something that gives me the strength to continue." Ylliria softly smiles, looking through the small window of their cabin.

"We will succeed, Your Grace, because our purpose is rightful." The young man approaches to take her hand in his. She squeezes it as answer.

.

On one foggy morning, they're finally coming in sight of Dragonstone. The Captain of the 'Rainbow Dasher' raises the flag to advise his intention to come alongside. Soon after, a gunshot with white smoke warns him that his request is granted. The island had to establish this kind of rules, because of the small size of its port. Only a few ships of medium tonnage could enter it at the same time. So, a white smoke gunshot means that there is a dock available.

As soon as the plank touches the quay, two men are coming on board to talk with the Captain. Ylliria, Arya and Wylis are waiting beside him.

"What is the load of your ship?" One of the men asks, checking the papers the Captain had handed him.

"We are not in trade. And our warship is not armed for battle either. Our mission is different." He answers.

"We would like to request a meeting with King Stannis Baratheon." Ylliria intervenes.

"And you are?" The man suspiciously looks at her.

She holds out her own documents. "I am the Lady Ylliria of Winterfell; widow of late Lord Robb Stark, Warden and King of the North." She surrounds Arya's shoulders with her arm. "This is the Lady Arya Stark, Sister of Lord Stark. And the gentleman is Sir Wylis Manderly, son of Lord Wyman, Heir of White Harbor and my personal guard."

"The King does not give many Councils lately. I will advise his Hand, the Lord Davos Seaworth. He will see you."

"Better than nothing." She whispers in Wylis' ear. "Very well. When might we expect to see Lord Seaworth?"

"That is not me to tell, My Lady. I just send word and wait for an answer." The man hands back her papers. "In the meantime, you are not granted to land. You will all have to stay on board. I'll keep you posted."

"Thank you." The Captain says when he receives his own documents back. "I am going to foresee some barrels of wine for my crew. They hate to be stuck in their quarters when there are whores and taverns so close on hand." He lightly bows before leaving them.

One of the two man returns to the ship late that day with the answer. "My Lady, Lord Seaworth will see you at first hour tomorrow morning. He will come himself to accompany you to his quarters."

"Thank you, Sir."

"He specifically asks for you to come alone."

"Very well. I don't see a problem with this request. We are in friendly territory, aren't we?" She smiles.

"You are not going alone in there!" Sir Wylis flings as soon as the man left the ship.

"Sir, are you forgetting yourself? You are not in a position to give me orders."

"I'm sorry, but I will not let you go in a trap! I promised Lord Mallister to keep you safe, no matter what. Do you realize that Stannis might as well directly throw you in a prison cell and keep you as hostage?" He raises his voice.

"And what advantage would he take from it? In our situation, I have zero value for him. Do you really think he would sell me to the Lannisters? Really?"

"It's too dangerous. There are too many risks. You told me yourself that we can trust no one." Arya intervenes.

"Sweetling, if we stay in an inaction position, we will never accomplish anything. Think of our end goal; the Wall and rejoining Jon."

"I know, but..."

"Wylis, if your fears comes true, you go back to White Harbor to meet with Lord Umber and return here to siege Dragonstone. Your amount of ships will suffice to encircle this island. I'm sure they don't have mush supply up there." She orders her guard.

After a couple of minute thinking, he finally nods his agreement.

.

The next morning, Ylliria is already waiting on the ship's deck when Lord Seaworth arrives. "My Lord, thank you for seeing me in such short notice. In the troubles times we are living in, I could not take the risk to send word to advise of my arrival."

"I understand, My Lady." He gently bows. "May I first give you my sincere condolences for your loss? Our King Stannis never saw an enemy in Lord Stark."

"Thank you, My Lord, for your kind attention. And that is also why I came here without fear."

"But still, your visit quite intrigues me."

"I would like to parley with your King. I might have an interesting proposal to share with him."

"Is that so?" He smiles. "Maybe it would be wiser to continuing this discussion away from prying ears. Would you please accompany me in my quarters?" He holds out his arm for her to lean on.

She gives Arya and Sir Wylis a last reassuring smile before leaving the ship.

Lord Seaworth has foreseen horses to make an easier ascent to the Castle. "It will be a two hours journey, My Lady." He says, helping her to mount.

"When will I be authorized to see King Stannis?" Ylliria asks mid-way.

"If you can convince me of your good intentions, I'll bring you to him."

"Oh, I see. I heard that he does not like to have visitors lately."

"After King's Landing, he was never the same. He became a sort of hermit."

"But, he still claims the Iron Throne for his own."

"With the help of R'hllor, he will have it."

"R'hllor?"

"The Lord of Light. The new faith in Dragonstone."

"Stannis abandoned the old traditions?" She asks, stunned.

"Old, new... It does not matter much." Davos shrugs. "What did the old Gods do for us, huh? I'm asking you. How could they let all this happen? All the death, the despair, the betrayals..."

"It's not the Gods that started this war. It's the Lannisters."

"Believe what you want, My Lady." He dismounts in front of a thick oak-tree door. "If you please." He leads her the way. Ylliria follows him in a gloomy hallway to his dark office only lit by three feeble candles and a dying fire in the hearth. Davos grabs a log and tosses in it, pocking at it to resuscitate the flames. "Lady Melisandre sees the future in the fire. And since she serves our King, she was never wrong. She saw everything that happened. It's difficult to stay a non-believer in the new faith, when you witness the power of R'hllor with your own eyes."

"Who is Lady Melisandre?"

"Melisandre of Asshai, the King's personal priestess. She has the power of the Lord of Light in her. She gave Our Grace his victorious flaming sword, Lightbringer."

"It's hard for me to believe in her powers, after everything that Stannis lost in front of King's Landing."

"You know, she knew you were coming." He changes the subject.

"Really?" Ylliria lets out a small laugh.

"And your husband's death too. She told the King before the news of the Red Wedding arrived at Dragonstone. I would not doubt her or mock her. The King would kill you if you did. Make that a friendly warning, My Lady." He gives her a side look.

.


	95. Chapter 95

Chapter 95: The Parley

Lord Davos pours two cups of red wine and invites Ylliria to sit in front of him at the table. "Now, I am really curious what sort of proposal you have to offer to our King that might be of any interest."

"I can understand your reticence, My Lord. But, may I please ask you to hear me out before making any opinion."

"You are here, aren't you? So, please do speak."

"We have a common enemy and not sufficient men and means to make a Host and fight them; it's known information for both of us. But, we also have another thing in common; we have a certain purpose we would like to see fulfilled. For your King, it's the claim of legitimacy to sit on the Iron Throne. And in my humble opinion, he is the rightful King of Westeros." She smiles, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

"I'm very happy to hear your words, My Lady."

"And for us, we wish the North to be return in Northern lordship."

"So, you still have the intention to keep a King in the North?"

"Did I say that, My Lord? No, if King Stannis helps us to re-conquer our lands and Castles, I can guarantee you that our Lords will plead fealty to him and re-instate the ancestral common laws."

"My Lady, even with both our small Hosts gathered together, we do not have the adequate amount of men to attack the Ironmen on land nor sea. What's your point?"

"My point is not to attack someone; it's more to go to the rescue of something. Let's be honest, King Stannis is not very well-liked in the Realm. That was his main problem to find sufficient allies to attack King's Landing. And with the results we know, it's not going to change anytime soon."

"The Lord of Light will provide what King Stannis needs. It's just a matter of time, that's all."

"And if my proposal was just a part of that? And if it was R'hllor that gave me the idea and come to see you?" She says, understanding the importance this new God seems to have in the negotiation. "My Lord, what is the biggest smallfolk's fear in whole Westeros? What is the main character in most of the scary legends and stories that people tell their children at bedtime?"

"Dragons?" Davos tries.

"No… I'm speaking off all the strange creatures living behind the Wall. Everyone think that the Night's Watch is still protecting them. But, it seems not to be the case anymore. I'm sure your King recently received the same alarming message from Maester Aemon."

"Aye, I read it. But, I still don't understand your point, My Lady." The Lord showing some signs of annoyance.

"You read it, but you told nothing to King Stannis? I presume you didn't see the real impact if the Wall would collapse. No offense, My Lord, but I'm a Northerner and I know all the stories about the Wall and the creatures that populates it. The Night's Watch message was a desperate cry for help. Maester Aemon would never have send us a note like this if he was not really worried that the Wildlings are effectively preparing a massive attack against it. They have a leader now, a King-behind-the-wall as they call him. And if they were able to come through and start to slaughter people in the Realm, what then? The time an Army is gathered and sent to the North, they might be half-way through the territory. But, if King Stannis, his men and mine are going right now, capture this Wildling King and save the Wall; imagine the turnaround for him. People will praise Stannis to the skies, seeing him like the savior of the Realm… And they would be more incline to accept him as rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms." She smiles, letting the rest to Davos imagination.

"How can you be so sure the Lannisters didn't already send some men to the Wall?"

"Lord Seaworth, you know the answer to that question. With Joffrey's death, I'm sure they have other fishes to fry for the moment. And I don't think they ever care about the Wall either."

"Hum." He strokes his beard, staring at her. "And how do you plan to get those men so quickly to the Wall?"

"Sir Manderly's family has half a dozen Longships and another war galley moored at White Harbor. Three of the Longships and the war galley I came with are at my full disposal to embark them and sail to the Wall. My small host already left Riverrun and are on their way to the port as we speak. Lord Umber is leading them with orders to wait for our arrival."

"How many men do you have?"

"Around one thousand soldiers and three hundred horsemen." She is about to ask the same questions to Davos, but abandons the idea realizing he won't probably give her an answer to that.

"And where would all those ships dock?"

"At Eastwatch, where the Commander of the Night's Watch could give us a primary status of their situation. And we could plan the rest from there."

"We, you say?" He lightly chuckles. "Our King will never let you in command of this operation, My Lady... If he accepts your plan, of course."

"He will be in charge, I agree with that. But, I will participate and stay with my men." She insists.

Davos suddenly raises from his chair. "Honestly said, My Lady, I like the idea of your plan. It was nicely put together and you seemed to know your affair. Pardon to say that, but it's not really common to have a woman at the head of an Army." He smiles.

"A very small Army, My Lord."

"And you are right, our King needs support from people of Westeros. Of course, we are not sure of what we will find at the Wall and even if it needs to be saved. That is, in my opinion, the weak spot of your plan." He paces around the room, still stroking his beard in a gesture of deep thinking. "I might find a way to find the ships we'll need to embark our own men. And Lady Melisandre could look in the fires and see if this journey has any chance of success."

"All I ask is to talk to King Stannis, I'm sure I will be able to convince him." Ylliria gently says.

"Oh no, My Lady. He won't listen to you. Don't take it personally. He does not meet anyone, except Lady Melisandre and myself, since the Battle of the Blackwater."

"All right, let me talk to Lady Melisandre then."

"I would not advise you that either, My Lady. She..." He clears his throat. "She really has the power to crash you down if she feels the slightest treat in your words... I saw it with my own eyes." He lowers his voice.

"Magic has his limits, My Lord. And I know my path is righteous."

"Beyond any doubt, My Lady. But, better be safe than sorry. Please, listen. You write our King a letter explaining all you have told me here today. Without forgetting to mention that you will renounce to your title of Queen of the North and the guarantee all your Bannermen will plead fealty to him. That would definitively help. I will personally read it to him and fully discuss the matter."

"How long would that take? We are seriously running out of time, My Lord."

"You can write you letter right now." He puts down paper, ink and quills in front of her. "And I will bring it to King Stannis, as soon as you have finished. Is that quickly enough for your liking, My Lady?"

She nods, already dipping the point of the quill in the ink.

"I will ask my maid to bring you something to eat. And send one of my men to your ship to advise them you will probably pass the night at the Castle. Do you request that we fetch some of your staff?"

"Only my personal Guard, Sir Wylis Manderly and the Lady Arya Stark are accompanying me. I'd love to have them here with me." She scribbles some words on a small paper and hands it to Lord Davos. "Ask your man to give this to Sir Wylis. He was kind of worried about this meeting. That will set him at ease." She smiles.

"I understand, My Lady." He bows, withdrawing from the room.

"Oh, Lord Davos." She calls him back. "I have a last question for you. I would like to ask what King Stannis thinks about what happened at the Twins?"

"It's undeniable that it was a despicable act, My Lady. Be assured that our King was sincerely affected when he heard the news. And he promised himself to bring the Freys to justice, once he is settled on the Iron Throne."

"Thank you, My Lord."

.

Davos appears in front of the Chamber of the Painted Table where Stannis usually holds his councils. Other than the two soldiers guarding the door, a Captain is sitting on a small table, right in the middle of the way. "Please advise His Grace that the Hand of the King is requesting a hearing." He orders.

"His Grace is busy with Lady Melisandre, My Lord. And has requested not to be disturbed." The man answers without raising his eyes from the book he was writing in.

"I know the rules, Captain!" Davos flings. "And I would not be here if those were not urgent matters." He waves the parchment he has in his hand. "So, just advise His Grace of my presence." He smirks.

The Captain enters and returns a few seconds later. "You may enter, My Lord. The King will see you." He grudgingly holds the door open.

"My Lady." Davos bows before Lady Melisandre. "Your Grace, I am very sorry to disturb you like this, but I receive some important information that could not suffer any delay." Davos kneels. "You made me swear to give you honest counsel and swift obedience, to defend the realm against your foes, to protect your people. I beg Your Grace to hear me out and let me advise you wisely."

"Oh Davos, quite the sweet talk and say what you have to say." Stannis harshly says.

The Lord hands the King the roll of parchment. "This letter is written by the Lady Ylliria Stark, widow of Lord Robb Stark, late King of the North. It's a request she made for Your Grace appreciation."

"A request? What in the Lord of Light would she want from me?"

"It's an interesting proposal, Your Grace. Otherwise, I wouldn't have dared to come."

"When did you receive it?"

"Oh, the Lady is here, Your Grace. She sailed from Maidenpool."

King Stannis growls, sitting in his chair. "Go on, read the damn thing, if you feel it's worth to be heard."

Davos flattens the roll over the table and begins to read by the light of the hearth.

.

In the meantime, Arya and Sir Wylis arrive at the Castle. A man of Lord Seaworth leads them to Ylliria's quarters - composed of two communicating bedrooms and a main room.

"Your Grace. Is everything all right?" Her personal guard asks, still a little anxious.

"Everything is fine, Wylis. Lord Davos is with the King right now. We just have to wait." She pours him a cup of wine.

"I don't like this Castle. It's cold and dark." Arya comments, plucking some grapes from a bunch laying in a fruit-basket.

"We won't stay long, Sweetling. It's just for the night. Tomorrow, hopefully, we will be back on board and make ready to sail to Eastwatch."

"You seemed to be very confident, Your Grace."

"I am, Wylis. Lord Davos really was a good ear, even if a little suspicious in the beginning. At the end of our conversation, he said he liked our plan. That is was gave me hope to believe. Did you bring my trunk?"

"Yes, Your Grace." He points at it.

"I need to prepare myself. I cannot decently going to see Stannis dressed like this." She shows him her woolen gown she is wearing. "Arya, will you help me with that?" She holds out her hand for the young girl to follow her in the bedroom.

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	96. Chapter 96

Chapter 96: Tempus fugit!

"Will you meet the Lady, Your Grace?" Davos asks when he was finish to read the letter and gave some additional details to Stannis.

"What title did she use? Does she still claim to be Queen of the North?" The King walks along the long painted table, running his fingers along the carved wood.

"No, Your Grace. She presented herself as Lady of Winterfell, widow of Lord Robb Stark."

"We have to keep in mind that they were trying to steal the northern half of my Kingdom. And I am always as firm as ever with thieves."

"True, Your Grace. But, the Lady alleges that if Lord Stark has called his Bannermen and raised a Host, it was primary to march towards King's Landing and free his father from the cell he was thrown into. The wolf boy changed his plans when Eddard Stark was murdered by the Lannisters. We may understand that his grief led him to seek vengeance. And to please his Lords, he claimed the independence of the North."

"She will have to bend the knee and sign an agreement with our terms."

"Your Grace, the Lady is ready to hear them. And as she mentioned it in her letter, the only thing she desires is for her Lords to retrieve their lands and Castles and for her family to return to Winterfell."

"Meet with her, My King. I have looked into the flames, she does not want us any harm. And I think that could explain the fiery ice we saw the other night. R'hllor's message finally makes sense." Lady Melisandre whispers in his ear, tucking her arm under the King's elbow.

"Very well, then. Fetch her, My Lord." Stannis orders.

"At once, Your Grace."

.

A moment later, Ylliria enters into the Stone Drum's round room with its characteristic four long windows, overlooking North, South, East and West.

"Your Grace." She curtseys. "Be blessed for giving me the opportunity to talk with you."

"It's my Hand you will have to thank for that, My Lady. He is the one that persuades me of the benefits we could gain with that plan of yours. But, there are a lot of things we still need to discuss before I'll give my final decision." He makes a gesture with his hand to invite her to sit at the table.

"Of course, Your Grace. May I introduce you to the Lady Arya, sister of my late husband Lord Robb Stark and Sir Wylis Manderly, my personal guard. His family at White Harbor will provide us the ships to sail to the Wall. I found it opportune that he participates to the talking."

"I allow it. You already know my Hand, Lord Davos Seaworth. And this is the Lady Melisandre of Asshai, my personal adviser and red priestess of R'hllor, our Lord of Light." Stannis snaps his fingers and a servant comes out of the dark with cups and two jars of wine. "First of all, I would like to express my deepest condolences for your loss, My Lady. I might have seen your husband as a usurper and a traitor, but never as an enemy. And the way he died is plain murder in my eyes. Be assured that the culprits of this act of infamy will be brought to me and I promise you that my justice will heavily fall upon them."

"Your Grace is very kind."

He clears his throat. "Let's start our discussion. So, you claim that the Wall is under the threat of a massive Wildling attack. The Night's Watch always deals with those attacks, what makes it so different today?"

"I found several messages about the situation at the Wall in my husband's papers, Your Grace. There are reporting that the Wildlings have named a leader and that they are now organized, well-armed and already have pushed several raids against the Night's Watch at Shadow Tower and Castle Black."

"Do you have a name for this Wildling leader?"

"Aye, Your Grace. He is a turncloak from the Night's Watch, an old brother. He took the name of Mance Rayder and calls himself the King-behind-the-wall."

"Is that so? Another King?" Stannis mumbles.

"Lord Commander Mormont gathered a group of two hundred sworn brothers into a sortie to the Fist of the First men, hoping to stop the Wildling's progress and send them back to their villages. The last message from Maester Aemon told us that they were under attack and that they didn't receive any future news from the garrison since."

"And on those fact you made your assumptions of a possible incursion of Wildlings in the North."

"Exactly, Your Grace. Raids in the Gift lands exist for centuries. But, there were always pushed away; if not the Wildlings just stealing some food and women before running back the other side. I think this time we are facing something more serious. We should see it as a possible invasion with long-range planning and more permanent settlement beyond the Wall."

"You seemed to be well-informed, My Lady. I give you that, you know your way. I'm impressed."

"Thank you, Your Grace. Robb founded important to not only have me as a wife but also use me as a partner, sharing duties which lie under a Lord's responsibilities. And our Lords Bannermen were very helpful as well."

"It was effectively a mistake from our side to have underestimated the threat at the Wall. I realize that now. But, as you know I have lost three-quarters of my Host."

"As we have lost the same amount, Your Grace. That is why I though, if we could gather our men and find a common purpose."

"Don't take me for a simpleton, Lady Stark!" Stannis suddenly barks. "I have understood your plan!"

"Don't talk to her like that!" Arya flings.

"Hush, Sweetling. You promised me to behave and keep silence." Ylliria reprimands her.

"It seems boldness runs in the family." The King smirks, staring at the young girl.  
"My Pardons, Your Grace. There were no malign intentions in our words."

"Keep in mind that I am the leader here and if you want my help, it will be under my terms."

"I understand, Your Grace."

"Lord Davos already gave me some figures of the force you dispose of. I have thirteen hundred men at Dragonstone and another three hundred at Storm's End. And, I think the number of ships I have will be sufficient."

"Your Grace, may I speak?" Davos comes forward.

"My Lord, why do you think I made you Hand, if not to speak up?" The King reprimands him.

"It should be non-sense to send all our men to the Wall. And I don't think it will be necessary either. Even if, as the Lady says, the Wildlings are well-armed and are guided by a leader, they are still Wildlings with no training in battle. Full-armored horsemen and well-trained bowmen will be enough to crush this rebellion. Not to speak about the element of surprise that our foray will provoke."

"I could also spare some of my men and send them by road to the North as rearguard." Ylliria voices.

"So, what do you mean Davos? That only half our men will suffice?"

"I would say, aye. A full battalion of each army; composed of three-hundred horsemen, five hundred bowmen and another five hundred foot-soldiers, would be more that enough."

"How long to gather our men and sail to The Bite?" Stannis requests his Hand.

"Five days to make everything ready. And in this time of the year at sea, I would say five days to The Bite and probably another four to Eastwatch."

"I will send a raven at White Harbor went we leave here and request my Lord Umber to continue to sail towards Widow's Watch." Ylliria says.

"You will finalize the details with Lord Davos later, My Lady. Let us talk about my terms now. I will grant full pardon for all those who repent and swear fealty to me."

"You already know that this is acquired, Your Grace."

"Hum... I will keep you as Hostage till all the Northern Lords have pleaded their allegiance and gather their men under my banner, ready to march wherever I decide to go."

"You can't get agree with that?" Sir Wylis whispers in Ylliria's ear.

"Hush, Wylis, please."

"When we'll have finish with the Wall, we will make plans to re-conquer the whole Realm by starting to re-established Northern Lords in their Castles, but under one and only King, me. No claim of Independence."

"I think that the most important for the Northern Lords is to have their lands back, Your Grace."

"You will need to remarry too, if you have the intention to get Winterfell back in the Stark's bosom."

"Winterfell still has an Heir, Your Grace. My Lord husband wrote an addendum to his Edict before leaving for the Twins; naming Jon Snow his lawful heir if none of the two missing younger brothers could be found alive."

"And where is this bastard now?"

Ylliria is about to retort, but prefers swallowing the insult, now that the parley is in good way to be finalized. "Jon Snow is a sworn brother of the Night's Watch, Your Grace."

"So your plan was not only to save the Wall and bring a good aura upon me, but also save the Heir of Winterfell. You suddenly appear more dangerous that I though, My Lady."

"Dangerous, Your Grace?" She asks, really surprised.

"A woman with wits like yours must certainly have some other tricks hidden in her sleeve?"

"I don't think it is the case, My King." Lady Melisandre intervenes. "She is intelligent, but not a schemer. Determined, but not malicious. I see also a lot of love in her eyes. And love can be a tremendous driven power."

"As you may have noticed, Lady Stark, Lady Melisandre's opinions are very precious to me. And if she tells me that I can trust you, then I will. But, be sure that at any time, at any suspicion of treachery, you will be the first one to die. I will cut your heart out with my own sword and give it to the flames."

"I'm afraid you will have to kill me first, Your Grace." Sir Manderly briskly pushes his chair away.

"Wylis, for pity's sake, stay quiet!" Ylliria yells. "It's an order!" She grabs him by the arm to force him to sit down again. "It will never happen, because there will be no reason to come to this extend. Isn't it so, Your Grace?"

"Let's hope so, My Lady." Stannis looking dagger at the young Sir. "I took my decision and will prepare the Agreement for you to sign. It seems we both are going to the Wall, My Lady."

"Very well, Your Grace. I will return to my ship tomorrow first hour and wait for your orders." She raises up, looking at Arya and Wylis to follow her.

.

Once the final Agreement is signed, the preparations are going quite fast. In less than a week, the 'Rainbow Dasher', followed by two Longships, with Stannis' half battalion of men on board, are leaving Dragonstone.

The gathering with Lord Umber's fleet happens, without mishap, four days later.

And all together, they are now sailing towards Eastwatch-by-the-Sea and the Wall.

.


	97. Chapter 97

Chapter 97: Eastwatch-by-the-Sea

A rowboat silently comes alongside the shore of the Bay of Seals. On board, Lord Umber and Lord Seaworth that received the mission to meet with Cotter Pyke, the Eastwatch's Commander, to advise him of Stannis and his Army's arrival and to have a first update of the latest situation at the Wall.

"My Lords, welcome to Eastwatch. I hope you didn't have too much trouble during your journey at sea."

"It was a swift sailing, Commander. Thank you." Davos answers, shaking Cotter's hand.

"When I receive your message, at first I couldn't believe that finally in this Realm someone started to worry about us." The Commander exclaims, leading the two men to his private quarters. "Our Castle is certainly not in the right shape to welcome a King, nor Ladies, I'm afraid."

"Clean rooms and a good fire in the hearth will be all the comfort we'll need for now, Commander." Lord Umber comments.

"I already request my men to prepare rooms in the South Tower. It's the less damaged one." He hands the two men some warm mulled wine.

"Thank you, Commander. Could you please give us an update of the situation around here?" Davos requests when they are all sitting around the table and have clinking their cups to the future successes of their mission.

"We weren't hit by any attack since the last five or six weeks. But, we receive several reports from Castle Black. A group of Wildlings has passed the Wall around Shadow Tower and tried to take Castle Black from the South. But our Brothers, with help from the people of the nearest village, manage to stop the invasion, causing more loses to the Wildling's side than ours. As we commonly say around here, the Wall is our best weapon. But Mance Rayder decided to station under Castle Black. He pulled some attacks to get through the Ice Tunnel. For now, it seems our Brothers have pushed back all the attempts. But, honestly said, I don't know how much longer they will be able to hold without fresh backup. Unfortunately, I do not have the manpower enough to help them. And I think that is what Mance Rayder's expects; that we weaken any of our three positions to send his Wildlings to pass over the Wall where they will have the least men. That is why by common consent, we, the three Commanders, decided to take our chances to defend our own Castle and hope for the best."

"How many men does that King-beyond-the-Wall have?" Lord Seaworth asks.

"Thousands, My Lord, with Giants, Mammoths and the Gods knows what other evil creatures that lives beyond us. They are also more organized than before, building siege weapons and using war tactics. Never saw anything like it since I took my watch here."

"We still have the element of surprise on our side." Lord Umber tells Davos when he notices the worried look over his face. "So, the Wildlings are camping in front of Castle Black?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"How many of your garrison can you send to accompany us?"

"A small fifty. And I'll give you my best two rangers to lead your men right to the Wildling camp."

"Good. We will wait the night to moor our ships in the port and disembark men and material. We never know that those Wildlings have posted scouts around. I think our King will like to see us leave to the other side of the Wall as soon as possible." Davos stands up, inviting the Greatjon to do the same.

"My men will help you to unload horses and material, My Lords." Cotter Pyke shakes their hands again and accompanying them back to their rowboat.

.

Just before reaching the last gate at the end of the ice tunnel, Jon grabs Longclaw's hilt and starts to walk towards the Wildling camp. Only a few steps further, a lone rider emerges from behind the trees and comes towards his direction. Jon wonders if it could be Mance himself coming out to parley in the no-man's-land open zone. But, as the distance between them diminishes, Jon sees that the horseman is shorter and broader than Mance. He also wears gold rings around his thick arms and has a white beard.

"Huh! Jon Snow the crow." Tormund Giantsbane booms when they face each other. "I feared I'd never see you again."

"I thought you feared nothing, Tormund." Jon smiles.

"Well said, Lad." The big man grins. "I see your cloak is turned black again. Mance won't like it. If you come to change sides again, best climb back on that Wall of yours."

"They've sent me to treat with the King-beyond-the-Wall."

"Treat?" Tormund guffaws. "Mance wants to talk, that's true enough. But, I can't say if he wants to do that with you, though."

"I'm the one they've send."

"I see that. Well, best to get going before they send us a salvo of arrows up our asses." He comes down his horse to walk besides Jon. "You and your brothers fought us hard here. I'll give you that. Two hundred men and a dozen giants dead." He takes a goatskin off his saddle and pulls off the cork. "This will warm us up a bit." He takes a long gulp and hands it to Jon. The skin is full of mead, but so potent that it instantly sends flames through Jon's chest. "I told you that it would warm us up, didn't I?" Tormund laughs when he hears the young man coughing. "The Magnar swore to Mance that he would have the gate open wide for us and that all we needed to do was strolling through singing. And he would bring the whole Wall down after our passage, he said." He engulfs another part of the meat.

"He brought down some of the Wall." Jon answers with a little smile. "Unfortunately, mainly on his own head."

"Huh! Well, I never had much love for Styr anyways. What happened to that leg of yours?" He asks, finally noticing Jon's limping.

"An arrow. When I ran away." He shortly answers when they arrive among the first tents of the Wildling's encampment.

.

Ylliria and Arya are receiving a double room right next to King Stannis' one while Sir Wylis will be obliged to share his with five other soldiers. "Are we going to see Jon now?" The young girl asks, busy to make her bed.

"Jon is posted at Castle Black, Sweetling. You'll still need to have a little bit more patience. I will ask King Stannis if he can spare a few men to lead us there. I am impatient too, you know." She tidies up their belongings around the rooms.

"It seems so long ago; the last time we saw him. Sometimes, I try to picture him in my head but it's like his face is all blurry. Do you think he has aged or changed much?"

"Don't worry, we will recognize him." She smiles. "What will be the first thing you will say to him?"

"I don't know. I think I'm going to jump right in his arms and hopes he calls me 'little sis' again." Arya giggles at the prospect. "And you? What will be your first words to him?"

"Oh dear, I have a millions things to tell him! But even if it will be seen as totally unceremonious, I will probably be the second one to jump in his arms." Ylliria laughs.

"I see that you are settling down pretty well, My Ladies." Lord Davos says, opening the door. "My pardons, I knocked but nobody answered. Do you have needs of any kind?"

"No, we are fine, My Lord. Thank you. Just a little hungry maybe."

"That is also the purpose of my little visit. Our King request to have you both on his table tonight, to talk about what he decided to do in the next few days."

"Very well. We just need to change and we will be ready."

Lord Davos bows and closes the door behind him.

.

The food provided by Commander Pyke is simple, but nicely cocked and warm. The spiced hot wine is particularly well-liked by everyone around the table.

"Is your room comfortable enough, My Lady?" King Stannis suddenly turns towards Ylliria.

"Yes, Your Grace, it is thank you. There is something I would like to ask you. Would it be possible to assign a small detachment that could accompany us to Castle Black?"

"I beg your pardon?" He mumbles, obliviously her request has taken him by surprise.

"Well, I need to find Jon Snow as soon as possible to fill him in of the latest events and…"

"You are not going anywhere, My Lady." The King cuts her. "Did you forget our terms? You are my hostage till the Northern Lords and I are on our way to re-conquer the North. And I will be the one that will tell Lord Snow about his new position and what is expected of him."

"Do I have to understand that you will take us in the middle of your battle against the Wildlings, Your Grace?" She flings in a challenging tone.

"Mind your tongue, My Lady! You are talking to our beloved King." Lady Melisandre intervenes.

"You will stay at Eastwatch till further notice." He makes a gesture towards the Red woman to keep her silent. "Once I will have finished dealing with those Wildlings and that peace and order have been re-instated at the Wall; I will send orders to bring you to Castle Black."

"But, that can take forever!" Arya protests.

"Quite, I said!" He barks. "You should be thankful I didn't throw you in a cell and forget about you Starks! I know I can't trust you and I lost enough time already! This matter is closed." He claims, starting to eat again.

"Forgive our impatience, Your Grace." Ylliria manages to hide her own anger. "We lost a great deal of our family members, of our people and our castle. Arya had to flee for her life and suffered a lot before she'd be returned to us. She is still so young. Please understand that we are eager to return to a more peaceful life."

"Hum." He mutters.

"I am sure we will find some useful things to do to help Commander Pyke and his men during your absence, Your Grace." She turns around. "Sir, I was taught by our Maester at Winterfell the art of healing and caring. Maybe I can be of any help to your Maester?" She gently asks.

"Well, we don't have that much sick or wounded, My Lady. Maester Harmune does also all my correspondence." He shyly answers, giving a quick lock at Stannis.

"Do you have by chance a Master-At-Arms?"

"Of course we do. Sir Glendon Hewett. But, what would you possibly do with him?"

"Arya had some training courses before. I know, it's not common doing." She smiles. "But, she likes the sword dancing. If Sir Hewett could have some time for some small trainings with her. Oh, only with a wooden stick, of course." She turns around to smile at Stannis.

"As long as you give me your word that you will not attempt to escape, I will grand you those activities, My Lady." The King halfheartedly concedes.

"You already have my word, my seal and my signature on your Agreement, Your Grace."

.

A few days later, Ylliria watches Stannis' half recomposed Army entering the Ice tunnel to the other side of the Wall. She waves at Lord Umber and Sir Wylis before they disappear as well. "Please oh Gods; keep our brave men into your holly protection, make that Stannis succeed in this mission and finds Jon alive." She silently prays, wrapping her furry cloak tidier around her body.

.


	98. Chapter 98

**A little in advance... Merry Christmas to you all! :-)**

Chapter 98: In the meantime, behind the Wall.

The King-beyond-the-Wall's white tent rises in the middle of the camp protected by the edge of the trees. Surrounded by his two lieutenants, Darma Dogshead and Varamyr Sixskins; Mance Rayder waits outside, his arms crossed over his chest and his mismatched cloak hanging loose over his shoulders. When the three of them recognize who the Watch had sent, Darma turns her head to spit on the ground and Varamyr starts to grow like a wolf. "You are or very brave or very stupid to come back in front of us wearing a black cloak, Jon Snow." Mance says as welcome speech.

"What else would a man of the Night's Watch wear?" Jon bravely answers.

"I warned you he was false, Mance." Varamyr comes, making a face.

"Pull in your claws, Beastling." Tormund says, attaching his horse on a nearby tree. "The lad's here to hear. You lay a paw on him, might be I'll finally make me that shadowcat's cloak I want for so long."

"All right, enough already." Mance flings around, opening the flap of his tent. "Come in, crow. We'll talk."

Once inside, a warm feeling directly surrounds Jon. The heat coming from the fire burning beneath the smoke hole and some small braziers scattered around the tent. Mance, with a gesture of his hand, shows Jon where he may sit. "We know everything." He starts. "How few you were when you stopped our turtle. How many came from Eastwatch. How your supplies have drastically diminished. How your stairs were destroyed. How many men your cage can lift at each round... We know... And now you know we know."

Jon tries to keep his face as stiff as ice and discreetly looks around. "It won't be easy to kill him in here." He says for himself. "Mance does not wear his armor, but his sword is sheathed on his left hip. And there are other weapons in here, daggers and dirks, a bow and a quiver full of arrows and a bronze-headed spear beside that big black..." He suddenly raises his eyebrow. "Horn?" He voices out loud.

"Yes, I have found the Horn of Winter." Mance softly replies, standing up. "The very one the legend speak of when Joramun once blew it to wake up the Giants from the earth." He proudly smiles.

The young man admires it for a moment. The horn is huge and so wide at the mouth he certainly might put his arm inside up to the elbow. "So, you found the Horn. Why didn't you use it yet? Why bother building turtles and sending Thenns to the other side of the Wall?" Jon wonders.

"The Freefolk remembers things you black kneelers have forgotten." Mance explains. "Sometimes the shortest road is not the safest, Jon Snow." He softly runs a hand along the curve of the sacred Horn. "The horned Lord once said that sorcery is a double-edged sword. There is no safe way to use it and it could kill your enemy as well as yourself. I had hoped that Styr and Jarl would take your Brothers unaware and open the gate for us. I could draw Bowen Marsh and his garrison away, but your band of cripples and orphans proved to be more stubborn than I anticipated it. But, don't think you've stop us, though. You are too few and we are too many. I could continue to attack here and still send ten thousand men to cross the Bay of Seals on rafts and take Eastwatch from the rear. I could send men and mammoths to dig out the gates at the Castles you've abandoned. I could do many things still." He explains.

"And why don't you then?" Jon asks.

"Blood, Jon Snow. I will win in the end, yes, but my people bled enough already."

"Your losses weren't that heavy."

"Not from your hands, no. That's true." Mance studies Jon's face. "You saw the Fist of the First Men. You know what happened there. You know what we are facing."

"The Others..." Jon slowly mouths.

"They are growing stronger as the days are becoming shorter and the nights colder. The Giants, the Thenns, the Hornfoots, none of them were able to stand against them."

"And so haven't you?"

"And so haven't me. If I decide to blow the Horn of Winter, the Wall will collapse. And once the Wall is fallen what will stop the Others from marching South, huh?" Mance heavily sighs. "If I ask to talk to you crows, it's to try to avoid that and save my people. Go back to your Castle Jon and explain to that Lord Commander of your. Ask him to open the gates and let my people pass. If he does that, I will give him the Horn and the Wall will stand until the end of days."

"Are you a true King, Mance?" Jon asks out of the blue.

"I've never had a crown on my head or sat my ass on a bloody throne, if that's what you're asking."

"If we let your people live on the other side of the Wall, will you be strong enough to make them keep the King's peace and obey the laws of the Realm?"

"Whose laws? The laws of Winterfell or King's Landing?" Mance laughs. "The day we decide to have laws, we'll make our own. And you can keep your King's justice too. I'm offering you the Horn, not our freedom. We won't kneel to you."

"What will you do if we refuse the offer?" Jon having no doubt they will.

"I give you three days to convince them to let my people go through the Wall. If they refuse my request, I have no other choice than letting Tormund Giantsbane sound the Horn of Winter."

At that moment, a thousand thoughts flickers through Jon's head. "Carrying Mance's request back to Castle Black and tell them about the Horn? They will certainly laugh about it. Leaving the camp with Mance still alive? That will give Janos and Alliser their proof that I am a turncloak after all. Destroying the Horn here and now? I would not make one step towards it, before Mance stabs me." His cogitation is abruptly stopped by the sound of another horn blow coming from outside.

Mance frowns when he is hearing it too. He rushes out the door, Jon on his heels.

.

At Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, from the balcony of the main tower, Ylliria watches Arya having her first sword training with Sir Glendon Hewett, the Master-at-Arms.

"The little Lady seems to be pretty dexterous with her wooden stick." Lady Melisandre comments, arriving from behind and making the young woman jump in surprise.

"My pardons, I didn't hear you coming." Ylliria says, taking back her breath. "Aye, she is. She always likes the arms drill better than the embroidery of a handkerchief. Oh, and you have to see her handling a bow." She smiles full of admiration.

"When I was a little girl, I wished I was allowed to do the same. My father never let me even near a kitchen knife. That is why I turned to other kinds of weapons." The lady in Red smirks.

"Lord Eddard thought that exploring and letting our talents expressing themselves, would make us stronger and wiser."

"You were brought up by the Starks?" Melisandre asks.

"My family was massacred when I was a child and the Starks took care of me since."

"I didn't know that. I'm sorry to hear this, My Lady."

"It was a long time ago and I don't remember much of it; only blurry things in nightmares. But what is the part of truth and the part of imagination in those, I don't know?"

"Well, nightmares sometimes reveal more than you might think." Melisandre gazes upon the training yard for a moment. "I saw our King's victory against the Wildlings in the fire." She suddenly voices.

"Lord Davos told me that you are able to see the outcomes of events. Can you also see if a certain person is still alive?"

"No, it's not working like this. R'hllor is a warrior God, not a soothsayer."

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to offend you, My Lady." Ylliria lowers her head.

"You are worried about Jon Snow, aren't you?"

"What? How do you…?" She gives a surprised look to the priestess.

"Our beloved King Stannis tells me everything. And I was at your parley, remember? Jon Snow is the only thing standing in your way to legitimately claim Winterfell."

"You are misjudging me, My Lady. I don't hope for Jon's dead or even seek to get Winterfell for myself. All the contrary, Winterfell must stay in Stark's hands. I want Arya and hopefully Bran and Rickon, which I'm sure are alive somewhere, to be safe and have a prosperous future. And Jon Snow has Stark's blood in his veins too. My husband proclaimed him as Heir. Winterfell is Stark since the beginnings of times and must stay so for all future generations."

"But therefore, the new Lord Stark must take spouse and have a least a son." Melisandre implies, scrutinizing Ylliria's face for any reaction.

"I suppose so..." The young woman softly mouths.

"And it could be the new Lady Stark would prefer seeing you leaving the Castle, since you are not really part of the family or could be sensed as a rival."

"I haven't thought that far, My Lady."

"No offense, but I have a hard time to believe you. You are way more intelligent than that."

"And what do you think my intentions are, huh?" Ylliria raises her voice, starting to get annoyed by the priestess' questions and allegations.

"A beautiful woman like you would not have much trouble to seduce the young Lord and secure her position."

"How dare you?" She shouts. "I know Jon since we were kids. We are like brother and sister! I would never use him or playing with him like that! I..."

"I was not telling you this for you to do something against your will or against your principles, My Lady." Melisandre cuts her. "But, I sense so much love in your heart. I thought that, well..."

"The love I have in my heart, My Lady, is for the North where I was born and raised. And for the people of Winterfell that were always good towards me. I saw too much death and too much suffering in the last two years. I yearn for peace and quiet and the possibility to rebuild the Castle for all to feel safe, healthy and have food in their stomach. I wish I could just sit in front of the hearth and saw or read a whole day long without fearing for anybody's life. And all the rest is none of your business!"

"You may hide your head in the hole and continue to ignore your true fate, My Lady. But, I am sure of one thing in life; destiny always finds its way back, no matter how long it takes. You were meant to be the next Lady of Winterfell, that I'm sure of it. R'hllor told me so. It's just that you have married the wrong man." The priestess turns around and leaves Ylliria alone before she could retort again.

"What did she want?" Arya's voice takes her suddenly out of her thoughts.

"Nothing." She lies. "How was your training?"

"Good, but Sir Hewett is always afraid to hurt me. I had to kick his but a few times before he finally engaged." She smiles. "Ylliria, you seem upset." She frowns, noticing her annoyance. "That red witch must have say something to you that you disliked?"

"She was asking questions about Jon..."

"Is she dares touching a single hair on him, I will make the same prayer I did when..." Arya rages.

"Hush, Sweetling. We better be very careful. She is a dangerous person." The Lady whispers, taking the young girl by the shoulder and leading her to their room.

.


	99. Chapter 99

Chapter 99: All hands on deck!

"My Lady?" Maester Harmune gently comes when opening the door of Ylliria and Arya's rooms. "A group of men arrived at the gate this morning, some severely wounded. As it pleases you, we would appreciate your help."

"Are they from Stannis' Army?" Ylliria worriedly asks, already grabbing her cloak from the hook. "Arya, you come with us." She calls.

"No, they are survivors from Bowen Marsh's garrison from Castle Black. They were attacked by Wildlings who took their horses. They had to walk back here, carrying their injured. I have to warn you that some are really in a bad shape, My Lady." He explains while leading the two young women to his quarters.

"How many are they?" She asks, already finding back the attitude as a Field Nurse.

"Seventeen in total."

"How many beds do you have? And how many men will there be to take care of them?"

"We only have five beds in the main room, that we humbly call the infirmary. But, we've already put some more in the annex. To take care of them, there is only my steward and myself, My Lady. That's why I dared asking you for help."

"You did very well, Maester. Can the annex room be warmed up?"

"Yes, My Lady. We already put a brazier there. And we have placed the more severely injured in this main room." He keeps the door open to let them pass.

While Maester Harmune goes to the first bed, Ylliria knees in front of the second one. A man around his forties is lying there with an ugly wound on his right shoulder. "What's your name, Sir?"

"John, My Lady."

"All right John, let's see what we can do to patch you up." She lifts the piece of tissue that serves as bandage. "How many days since this wound?"

"Two weeks, My Lady. Sam did the best he could to keep it clean, but we had no fresh cloth to put over it."

"You do not have a high fever, which is a good sign." She smiles. "Arya Sweetling, fetch a basin of hot water, some clean cloths and try to find a bottle of vinegar." She requests to the young girl waiting behind her. "I will be back in a minute to clean your shoulder, Sir." She says to the man and moving to the next bed. "What is your name, Sir?"

"Samuel Tarly, My Lady. But, everyone calls me Sam." The young man shyly whispers, trying to get up.

"Sam, you stay nicely put." She gently pushes him back to lay down, starting to examine him. "You have a light fever and I see some frostbites on your fingers and feet. Any other injuries?"

"I got stabbed by a spear on my left side, but it's not that bad… I think." He goes to lift his shirt, but winces as soon as his fingertips touches the fabric.

"Let me do this for you, Sam. Don't worry; I know what I'm doing." She checks the wound and discovers it red and swollen, despite the healed cut. "I'm almost certain there is something stuck in the flesh. I will have to reopen your wound and removing whatever is in it."

"Will it hurt much?" He asks with a trembling voice. "Because I do prefer not to suffer. I can't stand the pain."

"Sam, you are a sworn Brother, you survived a Wildling attack, the cold and days without food." She wonders.

"I know, I'm fearful... I always were and always be."

"I don't think so! How can a man think of himself as fearful, living in these conditions his life long?" She says, pointing to the outside around.

"I wish my father could hear you, My Lady." He lightly blushes.

"I will give you a little bit of Milk of the Poppy. But, just to make you comfortable." She gently smiles.

"Thank you. You are very kind, My Lady." Sam lowers his head.

"I'll come back after I made the round of the wounded and have prepared an ointment for your fingers and toes." She puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Everything will be all right, Sam. Don't worry, you'll survive."

.

The warhorns are stirring the Wildling's camp from its lethargy. "It's the code for Outriders." Tormund yells at Mance.

"Something is coming from the East." Varamyr adds.

"East? Are you sure? The White-walkers should be behind us. They should come from the North!" The King-behind-the-wall comments.

"No, I'm sure; the treat comes from the East." The Skinchanger insists.

"Could it be the Others?" Jon asks concerned.

"The Others never come out when the sun is up." Mance shakes his head. "Someone brings my horse! The mare, not the stallion. And I want my armor too!... Darma, mount up your raiders. Tormund, give me a triple line of spears, east side of the camp." He orders around, glancing suspiciously at the Wall. At the top, the straw soldiers are still standing, like waiting for the next salvo of arrows. Other than that, he does not see any other sign of activity.

Varamyr sits cross-legged on the floor, closing his eyes to start a trance. "I see them. They're coming along the streams."

"Who is coming, Beastling?" Mance barks.

"Men on horses, men in steel and men in black." He rocks back and forth.

"Crows?" He turns towards Jon. "Do my old Brothers think they could catch me with my breeches down and attack while we parley?"

"If they made plans to attack, they never told me about it, I swear!" Jon defends himself.

"If you lie to me again, Snow, only piece parts of your body will leave this camp! I'll skin you alive with my own hands!" Mance threatens while putting on his armor, his horse waiting next to him.

"An attack from the Wall is impossible, Mance. Lord Janos lacks the force for such a wide foray. Besides, they are on this side of the Wall. Our gate is still sealed with rubble. It would have taken them days to have a passage large enough for horses." The young man explains.

Around the camp, people are running erratically, driven by panic. Jon reaches back over his shoulder and draws Longclaw just as a thin line of rangers emerge from the fringe of the woods, three hundred yards away. They are wearing black mail, black half-helms and black cloaks.

"You knew nothing of this, did you? They didn't trust you and now you are trapped here with us. Nice Brothers you have!" Mance coldly says, drawing his own sword.

The rangers are lunging at the camp while the Wildlings are flying to meet them, shouting war cries and waving clubs, bronze swords and axes made of flint.

"Believe all you want, Mance." Jon tells him.

"Might be you're telling the truth this time. Those look like Eastwatch men to me. Cotter Pyke always had more guts than sense. He took the Lord of Bones at Long Barrow, he must think to do the same with me. If so, he's a fool. He doesn't have the men nor the..."

"Mance!" A screaming scout cuts him. "There are more! They're all around us! Iron men... A whole host of them!"

Cursing, Mance swings up into the saddle. "Varamyr, stay here and keep an extra pair of eyes on this crow. If he runs, you may rip out his throat, but don't eat him!" He points his sword at Jon.

"They're coming from the North too, Mance." Another scout on horse comes rushing down.

The King-beyond-the-Wall dons his helm with spread raven wings on top and slams his heels into the mare, flying across the field.

.

Two days later, Ylliria is back at the infirmary, checking the status of each wounded man. From the seventeen that arrived at Eastwatch, they had lost only one. The poor lad was unconscious for days and died peacefully, like he knew he finally arrived in a safe place and could be decently buried.

Arya was busy to put a clean poultice on John's shoulder. "Very nice, Sweetling. You are doing a very good work." She whispers in her hear.

"I just do what I saw you doing and what you taught me to do." The young girl smiles.

"It's a very fine daughter you have there, My Lady. You must be very proud of her." John comes.

"She isn't my mother, you silly. She's my sister." Arya winks to the man.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't want to..." He bites on his lip in embarrassment.

"Don't worry, John. No harm done." Ylliria reassures him. "I don't see Sam. Where is he?" She asks.

"They put him in a room in the South tower where we are. He didn't need that much attention anymore, so they moved him to make room for another man." Arya answers. "Ylliria." She calls when she sees her going out.

"Yes, Sweetling. What is it?"

"Did you hear anything about Jon? King Stannis or Lord Umber?"

"No, dear. Nothing yet."

"I do not dare to talk to the Brothers about who we are."

"And you do well. They might found out or maybe already know. But, I prefer not going forward with anything. And if they ask you questions, just tell them the minimum, all right?"

"You really don't trust anyone around here? Ylliria, the Brothers of the Night's Watch are under the North authority. They are on our side."

"I know, dear. But, since Robb... I don't know." She heavily sights. "We can't be too careful."

"You're probably right." Arya hugs her tight. "I'm so happy we are together."

"I'm so happy to have you with me too, Sweetling." She kisses her forehead before leaving the room.

.

Ylliria cannot walk around Eastwatch without systematically having a look at the Wall standing in front of her. She does not know if she must fear it or feeling safe for being on the right side of it. She also wonders how all those men can stand an entire life in the cold, the discomfort and the permanent promiscuity of danger. She can't understand what Jon could find so attractive in the Night's Watch Order. He was talking about it with such enthusiasm and such ardor since he was a kid; surely deluding himself with all the stories he heard. "I hope he wasn't too disappointed when he arrived here." She says to herself. "Or maybe I only wish he was." She shrugs. Arriving in front of Sam's room, she softly knocks.

"Enter." A more stronger voice that she expected comes from the other side.

"Good morning, Sam. How are you feeling today?"

"Oh, My Lady. I'm feeling much better. I even start to read a book. Look." He shows her what is was busy with.

"You like reading?"

"I love it. I might not have the gift of battle, but at least the Gods gave me a brain to use." He softly laughs. "Please, My Lady, take a seat. It a real pleasure to have some company." He presents her a wooden chair. "I received a little jar of wine. Would you like to share it with me?"

"With pleasure, Sam."

"If it's not too blunt of me to ask you." Sam starts, pouring a cup. "What is a Lady doing in a Castle of the Night's Watch?"

"It's a long story." She smiles. "But please, do call me Ylliria. I think we know each other enough now."

At the name, the cup Sam was holding, drops on the floor.

.


	100. Chapter 100

**Again a bit in advance, I wish you all the best for this future year. Take care and have a lovely end of the year.**

**(I'm not saying it as it should, because it seems it's bad luck to do it ;-))**

Chapter 100: Surprise guests at the Wall.

When Sam hears Ylliria's name, the cup he was holding, drops on the floor.

"Are you all right?" She briskly rises from the chair to help him.

"Oh dear, I'm so clumsy." He lies.

"Come, let me do this for you." She gently takes the jar from his hand.

He stares at her with a strange look, like he was searching for something on her face.

"Sam? Is everything all right with you?" She worriedly asks him. "Maybe they let you out of the infirmary a little too soon."

"Oh, no... No... I'm fine... Really, My Lady."

She puts the two cups and the jar on the table and help him to sit down next to her. She finally notices that he is gazing at her. "Sam, what's wrong?"

"Hum." He rapidly drops his eyes on his lap, looking at his hands still wrapped with bandages. "It's like working with thick gloves on. Let us drink to clumsiness, will you?" He softly laughs, grabbing his cup with both hands.

"If you say so." She gives him a side look not totally convinced.

"We are really not used to have women around us and certainly not Ladies." He finally retrieves the thread of the conversation. "So, what in the Seven Heavens are your doing here?"

"Like I said, it's a very long story. To make it short, due to a long list of circumstances, I was brought here by King Stannis. A part of the men he is leading against the Wildlings are from my late husband's Bannermen."

"I am sorry to hear you are a widow at such young age, My Lady."

"It is very king of you, Sam."

"Is it Stannis Baratheon you're talking about? The late King Robert's brother?"

"Aye, he claims that the Iron Throne is his, since there are some doubts in the legitimacy of Robert's children."

"We heard the same tale here too. That the children might be of Jaime's. Jon things that it is the reason why the Lannisters murdered his father; because he found out about it."

"Jon?"

Sam suddenly widens his eyes. "Oh, I shouldn't have said that." He stutters.

"You know Jon Snow?"

"Oh, My Lady. I'm sorry. That is my biggest problem, I'm always talking too much." He rises from his chair and starts to nervously pace around the room.

"Sam, please calm down. It's all right. I know Jon too." She gently takes him by the sleeve and leads him back to sit at the table.

"I know you do, My Lady."

"Please stop calling me My lady. It's Ylliria. I think we can really trust each other now. Don't you?"

"If you say so." He makes a silly smile but still avoids to look at her.

"Tell me about Jon? Is he still alive?"

"I don't know. I was with him and Lord Commander Mormont at the Fist of the First Men. But, he left with Qhorin Halfhand and some others trying to find the Wildling's camp. And I never saw him again after that."

"Well, all I can tell you is that he was still alive and even returned to Castle Black. But there are some terrible stories about him. Stories like he was an oathbreaker and a turncloak."

"Jon? Nan, that's impossible."

"That is what I thought too." She softly says.

"So, you came at the Wall because of Jon? I don't understand."

"It is part of the deal I made with Stannis. I ally with him and help him to get the Throne. So, he will free the North, confederate all the Bannermen, recompose an Army and will march towards King's Landing. And in order to get Winterfell back in Stark's bosom, the only known living Heir, that my late husband named in his Edict, must bend the knee to Stannis as well. I am carrying the documents, titles and seal to empower him."

"Jon is the Heir of Winterfell? How come? He told me he has three half-brothers. I mean, Lord Stark has sons that should normally…"

"A lot of things happened, Sam… The war…"

"Oh dear, do I have to understand that his brother Robb is dead?"

"Robb was murdered." She whispers, tears instantly forming in her eyes.

"Murdered? By whom? Oh by the Sevens, when Jon will know about that… He will be devastated."

"Stannis promised me that when he will be King of Westeros, he will drag those damned Freys to justice."

"Wait a second, you are Jon's brother widow?" Sam gently takes Ylliria's hand in his.

She shakes her head in a 'yes'.

"Oh dear, oh dear…" Sam heavily sighs. "And what about his two younger brothers?"

"Bran and Rickon? We don't have any news from them since I fled from Winterfell and Theon Greyjoy put it on fire. I can only hope that they are safe somewhere in another friendly castle or hidden in a farm. Or maybe hostage from the Ironmen. I don't know what I can do that Robb already tried to do without success. He wrote to practically every Lord-house in the North. No one have seen them."

"So, if I understand this correctly, Jon is the Heir only if Bran and Rickon are dead. What if they are alive?"

"The Edict says that Jon will be regent till they are at age to take the title of Lord of Winterfell. How come you knew my name?" She softly asks.

"Jon told me about you."

"Did he?" She lowers her head.

"Nothing bad I assure you. You seemed to be very close."

"We were raised together with Robb. We are around the same age. So, the three of us did all the possible silly things together." She smiles. "We also were a confidant for each other. We told all our secrets, all our problems. Later, I became Lady Catelyn's first Lady and had to take care of the younger children."

Sam starts to count on his fingers. "We are missing a child." He suddenly says.

"Sansa, the oldest daughter. That is the main reason why Robb rewrote a part of the Edict so soon. The Lannisters have married her with Tyrion."

"Tyrion, the Imp?" Sam comes abash. "I feel a sudden urge to go back to a more normal life. Here at the Wall, we are away from everything and everyone."

"Robb was sure that they did that to put a hand on Winterfell and a huge foot in the North. Married, Sansa could claim to be Heir."

"Tyrion, Lord of Winterfell... Dah!" He scoffs. "Even if Jon seemed to like that dwarf, I don't think he would let that happen."

"Jon is befriend with Tyrion?"

"Well, not friend-friends, but they seemed to get along." Sam shrugs. "Don't you think the Lannisters might have a hand in Robb's murder?"

"By promising gold and titles to the Freys? I thought of that too, but this is going to be hard to prove."

"When Jon will know he is the Heir and all the things you've told me." He slowly shakes his head. "So many things have changed in such short period."

"Not only things have changed, Sam. We also have changed. I don't even know if Jon is still alive and if he will accept to leave the Night's-Watch. He is not the oathbreaker type, that I'm sure of."

"I'm sure he will reconsider once he will know all the facts."

"I'll better be checking at the Infirmary again. The Red Lady always has an eye on me." She suddenly stands up. "Thank you for everything, Sam. We'll talk some more later. May I ask you to keep all this for yourself?"

"Of course, My Lady... I mean, Ylliria." He gently smiles.

.

Taking advantage of the panic around, Jon makes a step towards the tent, thinking of the Horn of Winter. But Varamyr notices his move and directly jumps in front of the access. "Don't give me such an easy opportunity. You know how much I'd like to cut you into pieces." The Beastling grows.

"You won't have that pleasure if we stay in the middle of this. Let we at least take shelter or protect ourselves." Jon retorts, pointing at the fights starting around. Suddenly, his gaze stops at the sight of flags coming from the North. "Golden Banners? That's impossible." He whispers before more men are rushing out of the woods. He sees a huge column of knights mounting heavy war horses and trumpets blowing all around. "Wildlings don't have trumpets, only warhorns." Jon says for himself, grabbing tighter the hilt of his sword and putting his back against the tent to protect him from any blow.

The Wildling drums change the rhythm of their beating, making Varamyr rush towards his own pack. The regular cadence tries to form squares and lines amongst the men, but they were too disorganized and too slow to do any of it; now that the enemy emerges from every side around the camp. "Definitively not men of the Eastwatch... This is a whole army." Jon wonders confused. "Could Robb have returned North?" He tries to spot any other Banner flying around.

At the other side of the Wildling's camp a column has washed over Darma Dogshead's group and another is about to smash into the flank of Tormund's spear-men. The giants have climbed onto their mammoths, making the knight's horses panicking at the sight of those huge animals. But the fear and the running that was all around - hundreds of women and children rushing away from the battle – do not allow them to make much damage.

Jon is looking for Mance, he spots him at the Eastern edge of the camp cutting his way through a knot of mounted knights. On the other side, some archers are losing fire arrows at the tents. A multitude of banners are flying around, Jon glimpses a seahorse, a field of birds, a ring of flowers, yellow banners with a red heart. "Whose arms are those? Where is this army coming from?" Jon asks himself since none of them really belonging to Northern Lords.

The Freefolk still has the numbers, but the attackers have steel armors and heavy horses. In the heart of the fight, Jon spots Mance's sword raised in the air and men rallying to him as a line of knights smashes into them with lances, swords and long axes. The King-beyond-the-Wall's mare went up on her hind legs, trying to kick itself free when a spear pierces her through the breast and the steel tide washes over him. "It's done. They're breaking." Jon sighs when he sees the Wildlings suddenly throwing down their weapons.

Through the smoke of the burning tents, Jon sees another group of armored riders coming out, their banner proudly flying above their heads, a gray Direwolf racing across a field of white. "Robb." Jon whispers with a smile, but it's another name the men were shouting. "Stannis! Stannis! Stannis!".

_._


	101. Chapter 101

Chapter 101: Hoping for a sign of life

"My Lady, we receive word from the battlefield. I made you a copy." Maester Harmune hands Ylliria a folded paper.

"They are in sight of the Wildling's camp and plan the attack for the morning. So, they are in battle as we speak." She says, raising her head from the paper.

"Aye, My Lady." He gently bows before clearing his throat and approaching her. "The Red Lady also received a message. But, I was not allowed to open it nor read it. It was sealed with a red heart surrounded in flames. I heard her laughing after she knew what it contains." He whispers.

"You don't like her either, huh?" She gently smiles at him.

"In our Order, sorcery is part of a Maester's education, I will not deny it. But, we are doing a clear distinction between White and Black magic and we swear to always use it to help, cure and protect people. Also, I am a strong believer in the Old Gods. That Lord of Light is an abjection, a creature from the world down below. I do not see anything good in this new believe. Purifying people with fire? Really?" He sighs. "And that woman has something very dark in her. You can see it in her eyes."

"I agree with you, Maester. But, we have to stay very careful when we talk about her. Her powers are real and she has instinct as no other."

"Even if the Night's-Watch's oath clearly stipulates that we should not take any part in the Realm's administration, I personally have no grief against Stannis Baratheon. I still praise the God Tree that you came to our rescue with this man. But, I would prefer having that woman far away from here as soon as possible."

"I heard a strange story during my short stay in Dragonstone." Ylliria starts, grabbing the Maester's sleeve to take him away from the door. "I have been told that Stannis' own Maester also feared Melisandre. He started to get worried about the influence she had over the King and he tried to kill her with poison. At an evening dinner, he put a few drops in her wine. She drank the cup empty; all the persons around the table have seen it. Then, she stared in the Maester's eyes and the poor man instantly dropped dead from the poison that she swallowed."

"That is indeed a very uncommon story, My Lady. We better keep our resentments for ourselves and hopefully King Stannis will win this battle and leave the Wall quickly."

"Let us pray for that, Maester. And thank you for your trust."

"I was born in the North, My Lady. My heart is still rooted somewhere near Torrhen's Square." He smiles.

"May I please ask you something more, Maester?" With her hand, she invites him to sit at the table.

"Of course, My Lady. What can I do for you?"

"Did you hear anything recent about Jon Snow in Castle Black?"

"Oh, I heard a lot of stories about that young man, My Lady. He seems to be quite a character." He lets out a small laugh. "But, I am more inclined to believe what Maester Aemon told me about him, than all those turncloak-traitor-oathbreaker stories I heard from certain brothers."

"I also find it difficult to believe in those stories. In Winterfell, he was the most righteous of all of us."

"And if Castle Black is still standing, it is surely thanks to his ability to analyze perilous situations and the way he speaks to the men to make them listen. It's a gift to be a born leader at such young age. Lord Commander Mormont had sense than in him and made him his steward. No doubt he will be a good Lord of Winterfell."

"If he accepts to take the responsibility. Joining the Night's-Watch was his biggest dream. He abandoned everything and everyone to follow it." She says with a little melancholy in her voice.

"Like you said, My Lady, if the man is righteous, he will take the right decision."

"So, you are sure he is still alive?"

"Well, in fact..." Maester Harmune clears his throat again. "The last news that came around here was that Lord Slynt, the Lord Commander ad interim, has thrown Jon Snow in an ice cell. He accused him of treachery and had the intention to put him to death."

"What? After all he did to keep the Wall? That is how they reward him?" Ylliria flings.

The Maester shrugged as answer.

"And when was that?"

"Around four weeks ago."

"Four weeks! He might be as well death already!" She briskly rises from her chair to start pacing around the room, twisting her fingers together. "Maester Harmune, I need to send a message to Castle Black."

"I understand your concerns and your worries, My Lady. But it is way too dangerous for you do take that risk. You are not allowed to communicate with the outside. If the Red Lady discovers it..." He comes, standing in front of her.

"Maybe you could send a message to Maester Aemon asking about Jon? I'm sure we can trust the man."

"No doubt we can, My Lady. But, we have no guarantee that my message won't fall into Lord Slynt's hands. And I heard Commander Pike say that King Stannis has the intention to settle his head-quarter at Castle Black after the battle. I urge you to reconsider, My Lady. I promise you to keep you informed of everything I read. But, you will have to be patient and not exposing you to any danger." He smiles, putting a reassuring hand on her arm.

"You are probably right, Maester." She turns her back to avoid him to see her worried face. "Thank you for your help and your support."

"I know in my heart that this is the right thing to do, My Lady. The North must go back into Northern hands." The Maester concludes before withdrawing from the room.

.

At Castle Black, during supper, the battle stories are flying around the tables. "I talked with some soldiers. They say that Stannis landed his Knights unexpectedly at Eastwatch and Cotter Pyke led him along the ranger's road, to take the Wildlings unaware." Grenn tells the others gathered around him.

"So, at least one of Maester Aemon's messages found an ear and was answered. I never thought to say that one day, but long live the real King of the Realm." Hobb the cook comments while filling their plates with fresh made stew.

"I was up on Wall duty when I saw that Army falling upon the Wildling's camp. I couldn't believe my ears when they started to scream his name. We all thought Stannis died in front of King's Landing." Pyp explains.

"Jon, you were in the middle of it… Come on, tell us what you saw?" Grenn asks.

"Aye, you must feel like a hero; capturing Mance Rayder and bringing back the Horn of Winter." Pyp adds

"I am no hero. Lord Slynt has still the intention to bring me before court. He waits to meet with Stannis to do so."

"Come on, no one ever believed those allegations, Jon. I'm sure the King will hear your side of the story. And we will all be behind you to testify. Right, lads?" Hobb yells from the open kitchen. All the men around start to cheer in agreement.

"Thank you, my Brothers." Jon waves his arms above his head to make them stop.

"Will you tell us the battle, Jon?" Grenn insists.

"In the beginning, I could not figure out who was attacking who. There were men coming from everywhere and others running everywhere. I first saw black Brothers, so I thought that maybe Slynt had asks backup from Shadow Tower and Eastwatch in a hopeless attempt to defeat Mance." He softly tells, not leaving his eyes from his plate. "But, then there were knights on war horses and banners all around. Banners I never saw before. I was as confused as the Wildlings. I even pray for a miracle that my brother would be among them. I had nothing to lose; no matter who'd win the battle, I was dead meat. So, I just defended the tent where the Horn was and slashed the few Wildlings that were passing by. And suddenly, Mance Rayder fell from his horse and the battle was over. One of the Brothers from Eastwatch grabbed me and brought me back here. And that's about it... Quite a hero I am, huh?" He shrugs, grabbing his cup of wine. "We better toast to honor all the Brothers we've lost."

They all raise their cups in silence while Pyp list some of their dead. "Donal Noye, Rast, Deaf Dick Follard, Red Alyn."

.

"Ylliria! Ylliria!" Arya yells, running up the stairs and rushing in their room.

"What in the Gods names is happening now?" Ylliria asks, raising her eyes from the book she was reading.

"I... I heard them... Ta... Talking..." The young girl tries to mouths, out of breath.

"Arya, calm down... Have a seat." She pours her a cup of fresh water. "Who did you hear saying what?"

"The Brothers, I heard them cheering. Stannis won!"

"The battle is over already? So quickly?"

"I guess so." Arya shrugs.

"Let us ask confirmation to Commander Pike." Ylliria grabs both their furry cloaks and hurries the young girl to follow her.

They find Cotter Pike with his men in the dining hall, a huge smile over his face. "My Ladies, we just received the news. King Stannis defeated the Wildlings and saved the whole Realm from their invasion." He jovially tells them before they had the time to ask the question.

"Do you have any report on casualties?" Ylliria requests.

"Not precisely, My Lady. Just that the element of surprise has minimized the amount of loses on our side."

"And Jon Snow is alive too." Melisandre says, her sudden appearance at the doorstep silencing everyone in the room.

"This is certainly good news, My Lady. But I was inquiring about my soldiers." Ylliria flings.

"We should pray R'hllor to thank him to have given our beloved King the power to crush so easily this rebellion." She raises her arms above her head, ready to start an imprecation.

"The Order of the Night's-Watch does not pray any Gods and take no part in any Religion, My Lady." Maester Harmune cuts her. "I am sure our Brothers would prefer celebrating this victory their own way."

"How dare you? Be sure the King will hear about this blasphemy!" The Red Priestess shouts, pointing a threatening finger at them.

"You may tell your King everything about it, My Lady. We are an independent Military order not attached to any laws or believes of the Realm. I'm sure King Stannis will confirm you this." The Maester calmly continues.

"Lady Stark, a word with you, if you please?" Melisandre orders her. Both women are going outside, aside from anyone's ear. "If you think you can turn those Black Crows to your favors and betray the word you gave to our King, you are playing a dangerous game, My Lady."

"I don't know what I did that makes you think that, Lady Melisandre."

"I know you have visited Sam Tarly quite often and Maester Harmune also came to your quarters several times in the last few days. And now this scene with Commander Pike."

"And?"

"What are you plotting together?"

"Plotting?" Ylliria scoffs. "We weren't plotting anything. Sam is a good friend of Jon and I just ask him to tell me about him. For what Maester Harmune's visits, I was borrowing books from his library. Since you have forbidden me to go into this particular zone, he brought them to me. Nothing more, nothing less." She starts to walk away. "Do you want me to show the books I'm reading for the moment? I even allow your men to search our rooms, if that could ease your concerns."

"That won't be necessary, My Lady. Tonight, you and the young Stark will sleep in my room. No more visits allowed. And make sure your belongings are packed and ready. We are leaving tomorrow." Melisandre snaps before walking the other way.

.


	102. Chapter 102

Chapter 102: Sword of truth through the heart

Since the arrival of Stannis' Host at Castle Black, the castle is more crowded than ever. Not only with black Brothers, but also with the King's soldiers, since he decided to settled his headquarters.

The King chooses to have his private apartments in the Main Tower, his banner flapping proudly on the top.

All the towers and keeps are now wearing banners from the different Houses that participate in the last battle. Jon, crossing the yard, gives now a good look at them. He recognizes the Golden one with the black stag, standard of House Baratheon; the fox-and-flowers of House Florent; the turtle from Estermont. He suddenly stops. "I wasn't dreaming it... There was a Direwolf of Winterfell amongst them in the field." He runs toward the keep. "Who is your leader?" He briskly asks the first lad he encounters.

"Lord Umber." The soldier answers.

"Where is he? I need to speak with him right away."

"He is with the King for the morning briefing."

"Are there any men from Winterfell among you? Did Robb Stark send you here?"

"Who are you to ask so many questions?" The Captain of the garrison suddenly appears at the doorstep.

"My name is Jon Snow, Sir. I'm Robb Stark's half-brother."

All of a sudden, the Captain looks a little embarrassed. "You should best wait till Lord Umber is back, my friend."

"Why? What happened to my brother? Where is he?"

"Adam, go fetch Sir Manderly and tells him who is waiting at the door." The Captain orders one of the soldiers.

A few minutes later, Wylis arrives at the entrance of the keep. "You are Jon Snow?" He asks. "Please follow me. We have a lot to talk about?"

"Who are you?"

"Sir Wylis Manderly, son of Lord Wyman and personal Guard of her gracious Majesty, the Queen of the North." He advises him, inviting the young man to sit at the table with him.

"Did my brother send you here?" Jon nervously asks not fully grasping what Wylis just said.

"I am very sorry to be the one announcing you such terrible news... But... Our King is dead."

"Robb... Dead?" He whispers, completely stunned. "How? During a battle?"

Wylis heavily sighs. "He felt in a trap, plotted by the Freys, during Lord Edmure Tully's wedding. King Robb had agreed to marry his uncle to a Frey in exchange of a promise the old bastard would continue to support us to defeat the Lannisters. They slaughter every single one that was around that table. My own brother was one of them." He lowers his head to hide his sadness.

Jon jumps from his seat, holding his head between his hands. "That can't be. How will I be able to forget myself for having stayed here when my brother needed me the most? Did you at least retaliate?" He briskly turns around to face Wylis again.

"We couldn't. We've lost a lot of men in front of the Twins. We weren't strong enough to face any of them. The Lannisters, the Ironmen, the Freys. They are all against us now. We were trapped in Riverrun. Our Queen did the best she could to hold most of us together, but some Bannermen preferred returning to their lands and see if there was something to be saved. So, she had no other choice than ally with Stannis Baratheon. The enemy of our enemy is our friend, says the wise man."

"Your Queen?" Jon looks astound, finally noticing. "Robb was married?"

"Aye, with the Lady Ylliria Bennett of Garrymount. She's on her way to Castle Black with your sister, the Lady Arya."

"Ylliria and Arya are alive? You're sure?" He whispers, letting himself drop on the bench again.

"Absolutely. Both alive and kicking. The two of them are the strongest women I ever met in my life. And they knows how to lead men, I assure you." Wylis softly chuckles. "It's our Queen's plan that saved us all." He tries to lighten up the conversation a bit.

"If you please excuse me, Sir. I need some fresh air." Jon suddenly voices, rushing out of the room. He runs to the other side of the tower, just in time to throw up everything that was in his stomach.

"Jon?" Someone suddenly calls behind him. "Are you sick?"

"Must be something I ate this morning, nothing to worry about." He wipes his mouth on his sleeve.

"Maester Aemon asks me to look for you. He urgently needs to talk with you." Clydas advises.

"Give me a moment. I'll catch up with you." He sends Aemon's steward away with a gesture of the hand. He continues to walk towards the Wall, Wylis' words echoing in his head. When he is finally alone around, he raises his head towards the ice structure. "YOU TOOK EVERYTHING AWAY FROM ME! EVERYTHING!" He yells at the top of his lungs. "WHY SHOULD I STILL KEEP MY WORD, HUH? WHY SHOULD I STILL RISK MY LIFE TO KEEP SAFE THOSE BASTARDS THAT KILLED MY BROTHER? TELL ME!" He drops on his knees, his hands grabbing snow from the floor and letting the tears flowing down his face.

.

"How far are we from the other Castle?" Arya asks Sam while helping him to load the wagon with their belongings.

"Well if we were traveling by horse, I'd say three days. But, with this." He points at the team. "We might add at least two more days."

"I want to go by horse!" She flings, looking at Melisandre busy to discuss with Ylliria.

"We could maybe gently ask her if we can join the vanguard. Fortune favors the bold." He tries to be cheerful.

"I like you Sam." Arya giggles. "And not only because you're my brother's friend. Will you follow us when we'll return to Winterfell? You could be our new Maester. You know a lot of things about a lot of things."

"That is very kind of you, Lady Arya." He bows. "But, I'm a sworn Brother of the Night's-Watch. My life is at the Wall till my last breath."

"But, if Jon can be freed, why can't you?"

"Circumstances are not the same, Young Lady. I'm not about to become the new head of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North."

"But, we will need a Maester. I'll talk with Jon once we arrive at Castle Black." She firmly claims, making Sam laugh.

"We are ready to leave." Ylliria says, approaching the wagon.

"We could already be going if we were with the vanguard." Arya argues.

"I know, Sweetling. But, Lady Melisandre wants us to travel with her in the covered carriage. So, that is what we will do."

"What is she so afraid of? Does she still believe we will run away? We have nothing or no one to help us."

"Hush, my little love. Think on what is waiting for us at the end of this road... Finally, we waited so long."

"Hum." She starts to sulk, crossing her arms over her chest.

"And I will be just behind you with the wagon." Sam adds. "Might that you will be allowed to sit next to me during the travel and we could discuss everything you want."

"Come on, hop up." Ylliria gently pushes her, making a wink at Sam to thank him. "I'll be with you in a minute, Sweetling. I'd like to say a last goodbye to Maester Harmune and Commander Pike." She says to the young girl, tucking her legs under one of the pelts scattered around the carriage.

"My dear Lady, may the Old Gods bless you and keep you safe." Maester Harmune tells her, taking both her hands in his.

"Thank you for your kindness, Maester. May the Old Gods preserve you from any harm." She answers, squeezing them.

"I hope to hear some good news from you in a short while." He whispers.

"I'll send you word as soon as possible, Maester." She makes a few steps to join the Commander.

"Commander Pike, thank you for so warmly welcoming us in your Castle. I know it was not supposed to host women. I hope we didn't give you too much trouble in your habits."

"Not at all, My Lady. Would you be so kind to give King Stannis my warmest regards and my deepest thanks."

"Of course, Commander, I will."

"Far well, My Lady."

"Take care of yourself, Commander."

Ylliria finally gets in the carriage and the departure's order is yelled.

_._

On his way to Maester Aemon's quarters, Jon passes by a barrel of water. To erase the signs of his grief, he plunges his head in the ice-cold water before taking a gulp to refresh his month. He grabs a cloth nearby and vigorously wipes his hair before it freezes on his head. He flings the wet cloth to a young recruit that is dumbfounded staring at him.

Jon softly knocks before entering Maester Aemon's room.

"Is that you, Jon my boy?" The Maester calls, sitting near the hearth.

"Yes, Maester."

"Come, come... I need to speak with you. Something very important."

"What is it about? I already got enough news for one day." The young man scoffs.

"It's about Lord Slynt. He claims his will to become our next Lord Commander." Maester Aemon bluntly announces. "This would be end of us. So, I'd like you to talk with King Stannis and make the same claim."

"What? You want me to go for Lord Commander?" Jon asks, a little bit caught by surprise.

"Exactly! The Brothers are listening to you. They know your values and they will be more in favor to support you than the Lord Slynt. Jon, you know how to rule this Order. You're righteous and valiant. You lived through more battles than most of them. Mormont knew all that about you."

"I am no Lord. I'm a bastard!"

"In the name of the Gods, will you stop self-pitying you, Jon!" The Maester suddenly flings. "You know very well that within the Order any Brother, whatever its origins, can rise to any rank."

"Let Slynt do what he wants. I don't care anymore. I'm tired." Jon shrugs, fighting against the tears again.

"My boy, what's wrong? Are you crying?" Aemon sensing the young man's sadness. "Is it about the news you got today?" He places a wrinkled hand over his forearm to encourage him to talk.

"During the battle against the Wildlings, I saw a Direwolf Banner amongst the others. I thought I was dreaming it. But, I prayed for a miracle that my brother finally decided to come. This morning, I saw it floating up one of the keeps, giving me a wave of hope and joy. I spoke with a certain Sir Wylis Manderly of White Harbor." He slowly lifts his head to face the Maester. "My brother is dead, Maester."

"Oh, by the Seven! I'm so sorry for you, my boy." The old man squeezes Jon's arm.

"And that's not all of it. I also learned that he was married."

"Well, that's very unfortunate. The poor Lady must be devastated."

"It's Ylliria he married, Maester!" Jon suddenly raises his voice.

Maester Aemon heavily sighs, searching for the right words to say.

"When my father was executed, you told me that I will have to make a choice, how hard it was; and live with it for the rest of my days." The young man continues in a trembling voice. "I chose to stay and keep the Realm safe. Look what that brought me. My father and my brother murdered, Winterfell burned down. And now, you ask me to become the Lord Commander of that damned Wall which took away everyone and everything I ever cared for. I'm not sure to find the strength to make that last sacrifice. I'm sorry, you'll have to find someone else for that job." He rises from his seat, ready to leave.

"Jon. You need to grief your brother." The Maester grabs him by the sleeve. "I know you already carried a lot and lived through many things since your arrival at the Wall. The night often brings good counsel. Let us talk some more by the morrow."

"I don't know what else we can say about all of it." Jon gently gets rid of Aemon's hold and closes the door behind him.

.


	103. Chapter 103

Chapter 103: Reunion at Castle Black

In the cold early morning, the horn from the main gate sends his long blast around to warn that a convoy is in sight. Brothers and soldiers are rushing out of their quarters and gathered in line in the main yard while King Stannis and his Lords prefer standing on the dais at the foot of the elevator. A half-smile appears over the King's face when he finally sees Melisandre coming out of the covered carriage. She instantly lifts her head, staring hungrily at him.

When Sam notices Grenn, Pyp, Giant and Dolorous Edd, he bursts into tears. And it is sobbing that he jumps from the wagon to hug them one after the other. "Run and bar the doors, lads. It's Sam the Slayer coming back from the grave." Pyp laughs while Grenn grabs Sam in his arms so hard he nearly crushed his ribcage into pieces.

"Oh, my dear friends, I thought I never see you again."

"You're really happy to see us? That lad must have lost the last wit he had." Dolorous Edd comments with his strange sense of humor, but taking Sam in a long embrace.

Their arrival at Castle Black makes a sort of happy turmoil, Brothers retrieving Brothers, friends their friends.

Arya rushes out of the carriage and starts to look around. "I don't see him." She shouts out.

"They are all dressed in black. It's difficult to recognize anyone in this melee." Ylliria steps out after her.

The young girl climbs up the wagon and uses a hand as eyeshade. "He's not here." She stands on tip-toe, desperately scrutinizes the whole yard. She suddenly lifts her head towards the balcony of the Common Hall. "Jon!" She calls, jumping on the ground and climbing the stairs four at the time. "Jon!" She flies in his arms.

"Little sister. My sweet little sis." He whispers in her ear, holding her tight. When he hears her crying, he gently starts to rock her. "By the Gods, you're nearly a woman grown."

"Don't let go of me yet. I want to hold you a little longer." She stutters between two sobs.

"Hey, everything is all right. I won't let you go." He tries to appease her.

Downstairs, Ylliria wipes away a tear, stirred by the scene she witnesses on the balcony. She slowly walks up the stairs and waits on top of them, not wanting to disturb their reunion. "Arya waited so long for this." She tells herself.

Finally, Jon lifts his gaze. He hesitates a long time, before slowly getting rid of Arya's embrace.

When he finally decides to go towards her, Melisandre arrives at the top of the stairs. "My Lady, the King requests a word with you." She harshly says with a bad smirk over her face. "Straightaway!" She adds when she sees Jon making another step forward. Without a word, Ylliria follows the red woman.

"This witch is dangerous." Arya tells her brother.

"Who is she?" Jon asks.

"The Lady Melisandre of Asshai. She is the Red Priestess of their new God of Light, R'hllor. King Stannis is very fond of her and never takes a decision without her approval. They say she can see the future in the flames of a fire. Ylliria seems uncomfortable in front of her. I just want to kill her. Valar Morghulis." She spits on the floor, to Jon's surprise.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He finally asks her.

"All men must die. It's High Valyrian." She says between her teeth, still keeping an eye on the two women now entering the King's tower.

"Since when do you speak High Valyrian?" Jon smiles.

"It's a long story." She darkly answers.

"Arya, you are safe here." He turns her around to face him. "I won't let anyone harm you, Little Sis." He takes her back in his arms. "Will you tell me what happened to you? You have changed so much."

"Maybe... One day." She whispers.

"By all the Gods." Jon suddenly spots Sam in the yard. "Sam!" He calls, waving at him and hurtling down the stairs.

"Jon!" The chubby man is ready to cry again.

"I can't believe it. Is it really you I see in front of me?" Jon hugs him nearly as hard as Grenn. "So, you made it back after all, huh? Let me have a good look at you. You're still in one piece, it seems."

"Aye. Lucky me for having the best field nurses ever. Your sister Arya and the Lady Ylliria." Sam shyly smiles at the young girl standing behind his friend.

"Let us celebrate this little miracle with some of the finest mediocre wine we have." Pyp comes, taking Sam and Jon by the shoulder and leading them towards the diner hall.

"Later, my friends." Jon gently pushes Pyp's arm away, looking at Arya.

"Oh, of course... Silly me." His friend bows towards the young girl. "My Pardons, My Lady."

"Don't mock her, Pyp. She might very well kick your ass with a sword." Jon tells him.

"Really?" The young man stares at a crossed-arms Arya.

Jon and Sam nod their heads before all burst into laughter.

.

After her audience with King Stannis, Ylliria is allowed to meet with her men. Attended by Arya, they both entering their designated keep.

"My Ladies, so pleased to see you again." The Greatjon welcomes them.

"My Lord Umber." Ylliria kisses him on the cheek. "Glad to see you unharmed. What about our men? How many loses?"

"Only three deaths to be accounted for and about thirty wounded. Don't you worry; they are taking care of, My Lady."

"I will see them later."

"My Lady." A soft voice comes from behind her.

"Sir Wylis." She takes his hands in hers. "You have to tell me everything that happened since you left Eastwatch."

"I will, My Lady." He lightly steps aside. "Lady Arya." He bows.

"Sir Wylis." She softly answers, her eyes instantly falling on her shoes.

"Hope your journey wasn't too exhausting." He gently takes her hand to kiss it.

"No, not at all. I was too happy to rejoin you here." She says. "I mean all of you." She quickly adds.

"We've prepared your rooms." Sir Wylis advises. "King Stannis assigned you a whole floor in his tower."

"Of course." She shrugs. "I'm still a hostage, right?"

"Hopefully, not for long anymore." Lord Umber comes. "Stannis wants to march North as soon as possible."

"Aye, he told me that."

"There will be a sort of ceremony in the yard before supper. All must be present." Sir Wylis advises.

"Then we've best rejoin our quarters, refreshing ourselves and have some rest." Ylliria gently leads Arya to the exit. "Sir Wylis seems to be very happy to see you, Arya?" She innocently comments her while marching towards the King's tower.

"Really? I didn't notice anything. I think he just wants to be polite." The young girl stammers, making Ylliria giggle. "What?"

"And you like him too, I saw it." She teases her.

"Not at all! I'm way too young and he is way too old... Anyways, I will never get married. No, no, no..."

"Oh, so you will never fall in love then? Love is a beautiful thing, you know."

"Love hurts, most of the time." Arya snaps.

"How do you know that? You just said you never felt it." Ylliria continues.

"Will you please stop? I do not feel anything for Sir Wylis!" She opens her bedroom door.

"All right, all right." The young woman raises her arms in defense. "I must have misread the shade of red that colored your cheeks then." She shrugs.

"Exactly, it was only the cold."

"The cold, aye. That must be it." Ylliria nods with a smile.

In exasperation, Arya throws a pillow at her, making them finally both burst into laughter.

.

When the sun disappears into the west, all Castle Black is gathered in the yard again, at the order of King Stannis, for a sort of victory ceremonial. Melisandre is standing in front of a huge fire, requesting silence around with ample gestures of her arms. "Let us pray our good Lord of Light R'hllor for the beneficence he has given us." She raises her hands above the fire and starts to recite. "Lead us from the darkness, O my lord and fill our hearts with fire. You are the light in our eyes, the fire in our hearts and the heat in our souls. Yours is the sun that warms our days, yours the stars that guard us in the dark of night." She sings in a loud and clear voice. "Lord of Light, defend us and protect us because the night if dark and full of terrors." She looks around the assembly. "R'hllor who gave us breath, we thank you. You who gave us day, we thank you. We thank you for the sun that warms us and the stars that watch upon us." The priestess turns towards the King. "We thank you for Stannis, by your grace our beloved King. We thank you for the pure white fire of his goodness, for the red sword of justice in his hand and for the love he bears for his people. Guide him, defend him, R'hllor, and grand him strength to defeat his foes."

"What a lot of preachifying non-sense!" Pyp whispers. "Does she really believe in all what she is saying?"

"And I was complaining about the Seven. I think I suddenly hear their call telling me 'I told you so'." Dolorous Edd adds with its legendary sense of humor, making Arya giggle.

"Are your friends always like this?" She asks Jon.

"It often helps to keep moral among us. Praise them for that." He winks.

.

The next morning, Ylliria watches Jon training in the yard with some young recruits. She suddenly remembers a similar scene back in Winterfell when they were kids. Jon and Robb had their sword practice with Rodrik Cassel, the Master-at-arms. She imagined she was a Princess or a Lady in distress and they were Princes or Lords of some famous legends that came to rescue her. They were fighting against each other to win her favors. The memory makes her smile.

Suddenly, one of the recruits gives Jon a hard blow on the side of his head. When she sees him heavily fall on the ground, she cannot suppress a small scream.

Jon lifts his gaze towards her and waves to show he was not injured. "It's enough for today, lads. You have your winner." The young man dismisses his recruits and climbs the stairs to rejoin her. "Finally, I started to despair never having the chance to welcome you."

"I thought maybe you weren't very happy to have me here at the Wall." She shyly replies.

"Don't say that. You know it is not true." He stops a step away from her. "It seems a lot happened since I left Winterfell."

"Enough to pass a very long winter in front of the hearth telling them all." She softly smiles.

"How are you holding up since Robb?" He lowers his gaze, trying to hold back his own emotions.

"My Lady, if you please excuse us. I need to have a word in private with Jon Snow." Lady Melisandre interferes, suddenly standing behind him.

"I will be at the Infirmary." Ylliria just says, leaving the balcony.

"Lady Melisandre." Jon bows, slightly angry.

"Our King wants to see you."

"Might I be allowed to change first? I'm not in a state to stand before a King." He shows her his sweaty clothes.

"I shall wait for you at the elevator." Melisandre curtly states before turning around.

Jon returns to his cell, throwing his wet clothes on the floor and grabbing a fresh set of blacks from his trunk. He sits on his bed for a moment, having a look at the little wooden portrait. For the first time in days, he cracks a smile.

It will be cold and windy atop of the Wall, so he chooses a heavy hooded cloak. Before going out, he catches Longclaw from the peg and slings it across his back.

Melisandre is waiting for him at the base of the Wall.

"What does His Grace wants of me?" Jon asks as they enter the cage.

"All you have to give, Jon Snow. He is a King."

"I have the strong impression you're doing your best to prevent me to speak with the Lady Ylliria?"

"It is temporary. Our Beloved King wants to brief you first. You will have all the liberty to meet with her after that."

Jon shuts the door and pulls the bell cord. The winch begins to turn and they start the rise.

_._


	104. Chapter 104

Chapter 104: Time to make decisions.

Lady Melisandre and Jon find Stannis Baratheon standing alone at the edge of the Wall, staring at the field where he had won his battle and the huge green forest beyond. He is dressed all in black like a Brother of the Night's Watch. Only his red and gold furry cloak, pinned with a brooch in the shape of a flaming heart, differentiate him.

"I have brought you the Bastard of Winterfell, Your Grace." Melisandre says, snuggling up to him.

Stannis starts to study the young man, uneasily kneeling in front of him.

"Rise!" He calmly says. "I have heard much and more about you, Lord Snow."

"I am no Lord, Sire." Jon stands up. "But, I imagine what you might have heard. I am a turncloak and a craven, that I slew my Brother Qhorin Halfhand so the Wildlings would spare my life. And that I rode next to Mance Rayder and took a Wildling wife."

"All that and much more. What is your truth of it?" Stannis gently gets rid of the Red Priestess' hold to approach him.

"Qhorin Halfhand commanded me to join the Wildlings to gather all possible information about them before returning to Castle Black. He knew I would have to kill him to prove myself and told me to do whatever they asked of me. The Free woman named Ygrid and yes, I broke my vows with her. But I swear to you, on my father's name, that I never turned my cloak and always stayed loyal to the Order."

"I believe you, Snow." The King simply says.

"Why?" Jon wonders.

Stannis snorts. "I knew your father, Eddard Stark. He was no friend of mine, but only a complete fool would doubt his honor and his honesty. You have his look, by the way. I also have been informed that you brought us the magic Horn and captured that King-beyond-the-Wall."

"It did not require much capturing, Your Grace. You had already put the Wildlings to flight."

"I know more about you that you might think, Jon. Your father was a man of honor. And your brother a rebel and a traitor who meant to steal half my Kingdom. But, no man can question the young wolf's courage and certainly not his wife's determination. Now what about you, Jon Snow?"

"I am a man of the Night's Watch. I pledge an oath." He says in a formal voice.

"Words are wind." The King makes a gesture with his arm as he could wipe them away. "Why do you think I abandoned Dragonstone and sailed to the Wall, Jon?"

"You came because we send for you, I hope. Though I could not say why it took you so long to come."

Surprisingly, Stannis laughs at that. "For sure, you're bold enough to be a Stark. Yes, I should have come sooner. If not for my Lord Seaworth and the Lady's plan, I might not have come at all. My Hand is a man of humble birth, but he reminded me of my duty. I admit to have put the wagon before the ox's, as my dear Davos said to me." He chuckles. "I was trying to take the Throne to save the Kingdom, when I should have tried to save the Kingdom to win that Throne. And it is your war as well, Lord Snow, if you will give me your help."

"I am no Lord, Your Grace." Jon repeats. "And my sword is pledged only to the Night's Watch."

"I will need more than a sword from you."

"Your Grace?" The young man questions, a bit lost.

"I saved the Wall... But now, I need the North. And I need a Northern Lord to do so."

"I... My brother Robb was..."

"The rightful Lord of Winterfell, I know. And if he had stayed home with his dear wife and done his duty, instead of riding off to conquer God knows what, he might still be alive and raise a pleiad of children."

Stannis harsh words are stabbing Jon right in the heart. "I never though all of this would happen. I made my decision and I will live with it for the rest of my days." He looks in the King eyes. "I truly loved my brother." He says more sadly.

"As I loved mine! And I am the only true King in Westeros, North and South." Stannis studies Jon again with his piercing dark-blue eyes. "Tywin Lannister named Edwyn Frey Warden of the North after the Red Wedding. The Ironmen are still holding Moat Cailin, Deepwood Motte and Torrhen's Square. Your father's lands are bleeding from all sides and the Lady Ylliria, as stubborn as she might be, does not have the strength to stanch those wounds. What is needed is a Lord of Winterfell. A loyal Lord of Winterfell that will gather the North under my banner."

"Winterfell is no more, Your Grace. I was told Theon Greyjoy put it to flames."

"A Castle is made of stone and wood and can be rebuilt. It's not the walls that make the Lord, it's the man. Your Northern Bannermen don't know me very well and have no reason to love me. Yet I need those men to fight the battles to come. I need Eddard Stark's last son to win them to my cause."

"Your Grace, you forget. I am a Snow, not a Stark."

"A King can remove the taint of bastardy with a snap of his fingers." He suits the action to the word.

"Yes, Kings have legitimized bastards before, but..." Jon hesitantly comes. "I am still a Brother of the Night's Watch. I knelt before a heart tree and swore to hold no lands and father no children."

"Vows that you have already broken once." Stannis surrounds Jon's shoulder with his arm. "Jon, accept Winterfell as a wedding gift."

"A wedding gift?"

"The surest way to seal a new alliance is with a marriage. My own father's words. I mean to wed my Lord of Winterfell with the Lady Ylliria. That will legitimize you all the more in the eyes of your liege Lords."

Jon stays quiet for a moment, gazing at the horizon and thinking at the proposal Stannis just put in his hands. All he has to say is 'aye' and he becomes Jon Stark, Lord of Winterfell and married to Ylliria. All he has to do is pledge this King his fealty and the lands, the people, the castle, all will be his. And he could make amends for the decision he once took, stop blaming himself for all what happened and avenge his family.

"This match is necessary, to help assure the loyalty of the North. Is your silence a sign that you are refusing the King, Jon Snow?" Melisandre suddenly intervenes.

"No." Jon says, too quickly. "I mean... This is all so sudden, Your Grace." He turns towards Stannis. "May I beg you for some time to consider the options?"

"Consider the options? What options?"

"The Night's-Watch is also without a Lord Commander, Your Grace."

"Lord Slynt applied for this."

"Permission to be blunt, Sire?"

Stannis allows him to speak with another gesture of his hand.

"In my humble opinion, appointing Lord Slynt to Lord Commander would raise a lot of frustrations among our Brothers. He is not a Sworn Brother for long enough to manage those seasoned men. And he has no experience how to hold the Wall or does not know anything on what is beyond our Gates."

"And you have all that experience, huh?"

"Yes, Your Grace, I do."

"It is hard for me to comprehend how a gifted man like you would waste his talents for a stack of ice." The King sighs. "Jon Snow, know this, I have captives to dispose of, a realm to order and a war to fight. Choices must be made and decisions to be taken. So, consider quickly for what you stand for. I am not a patient man." He puts a thin, fleshless hand on Jon's shoulder again. "I will need your final decision before the end of the week."

_._

Jon climbs the stairs and walks along the balcony that leads to his room. He opens the door and freezes instantly. "Ylliria, what are you doing here?"

She stands up from the bed where she was sitting in wait. "I wanted to have a moment with you alone... To talk. And I thought that this would be a good place to avoid another interruption by the Lady Melisandre." She smiles "Have you seen the King?"

"Aye, I just left him." He hangs his cloak on the peg.

"So, he told you why Arya and I are here with him."

"In broad terms. But, I need to think about all of this. And I need to know how Robb died. What happened to Bran and Rickon. To Arya and to you. What happened in Winterfell?" He grabs a chair and settles by the small table.

Ylliria sits in front of him and starts to tell everything from Robb calling the Bannermen till her arrival at the Wall. It is by the end of the afternoon that she finally ends the recalling of events.

"Well, Stannis came with a total other type of explanation about me becoming the next Lord of Winterfell. He never mentioned that Robb already named me his lawful Heir." Jon says.

"All is mentioned in here." She hands him the roll of parchment that she brought with her. "How did Stannis mention it to you?"

"Like he was granting me a big favor." Jon just says, keeping out the marriage part. "Ylliria, Queen of the North." He wonders when he finishes reading the Edict.

"Aye, when did that happen?" She scoffs, looking away.

"Ylliria." He takes one of her hands. "I'm really sorry for everything you had to endure. You deserved none of it." He sighs. "And part is my fault, I know. I should have returned to help Robb and keep you safe."

"There is nothing you could have changed, Jon. You even could have end up dead as well. And Winterfell would have been lost forever. Now, there is at least a chance to rebuild it."

"I'm not sure I'll accept Stannis' offer."

"What? Why? Its Robb's last will. How could you refuse that?" She protests.

"Robb should have kept in mind that I made a choice for life, being a Sworn Brother of the Night's-Watch." He lets go of her hand to stand up.

"A Brother that broke his vows with the first Wildling woman he met on his path, from what I heard."

Jon stays silent, surprised of her sudden vindictive tone.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. That was mean." Ylliria apologizes when she notices his sad face.

"In a certain way, you're right. I did break my vows. But that won't make my decision alone. There are other things I have to consider. Bend the knee to Stannis for instance. Who is making him better than any other self-proclaimed Kings around? He is not even a real Northerner. I swore to protect the realm against the creatures behind the Wall. Maester Aemon thinks I might become the next Lord Commander."

"That is just a trick to keep you here! The Wall is safe now, isn't it? And there are many older Sworn Brothers that are fitted for the job too. Cotter Pike for instance. He seems to be a good man."

"The Wall will never be safe, Ylliria. I saw those creatures, with my own eyes. I even kill one of them. You don't know how dangerous they are. If they come across, it could be the end of Westeros, the end of us."

"You lived amongst the Wildlings. What is so dangerous about them?"

"I was not referring to the Wildlings. They are as scared as we are. That is why they rebelled in the first place. To flee the danger of the Others, the White-walkers."

"The Wildlings also killed men of the Night's-Watch."

"Ylliria, what side are you on exactly?" He suddenly raises his voice.

"I have no other side but my family. You are not a true Brother of the Night's Watch anymore. But you could become a real Stark and a Lord. And protect your family, your people and your lands. Times have changed, Jon. For now, only evil, falsity and duplicity have hands on the realm. I prefer bending the knee to someone that seeks for justice and loyalty."

"Just because Stannis told you he will punish the Freys, won't make him a good King. He might as well forgive them if they give him men for his Army! Did he give you an absolute promise he would put them to justice? Do you have a signed paper who attests what he said to you? I don't think so."

"If we win the Northern Lords to his cause, he will have enough men and he will keep his word."

"You are dreaming, Ylliria!" He slams his fist on the table.

She slowly rises from the chair and goes for the exit. "All right then, be the new Lord Commander of the Night's Watch or the King of the Wildlings, if that is what you want. I won't bother you any longer with our problems. And, don't worry, you will get rid of us very soon." She slams the door behind her before he could retort. Instead, he violently wipes the table clean, sending everything on it flying around.

.


	105. Chapter 105

Chapter 105: Unexpected family gathering

Jon does not wait till the end of the week to give Stannis his decision. He follows Lord Davos that leads him to the King's office after the morning briefing.

"So Jon Snow, what will it be, the Cold or the Gold?" Stannis stares at him, intertwining his fingers under his chin.

"I dedicated my life for the Night's Watch and if my Brothers think I am fit for the duty I will accept to be their new Lord Commander, Your Grace."

"Very well, if that is your decision, I'll comply with it." The King says with some disappointment in his voice. "But don't think you will get rid of me so easily. I mean to make use of the Lord Commander as much as I will for the next Lord of Winterfell. I still need the Wall to be guarded and the Realm to be protected. I might have tamed this revolt by killing a thousand Wildlings, taking another thousand captive and scattered the rest, we both know they will return. This Tormund Thunderfist is likely re-forming them and probably planning some new assault as we speak. I will not let them weaken my army before the real enemy falls upon us."

"I agree, Your Grace." Jon answers, having himself come to that same conclusion.

"When will the voting take place?" Stannis asks.

"In a day or two, I suppose, as soon as Maester Aemon has prepared everything."

"Hum… Anyways, I will have need of you and Slynt to attend tomorrow's briefing. I want to already study our plans of battle here and our next moves to reconquer the North."

"As you wish, Your Grace."

"I also went to see Mance Rayder in his prison cell. Quite a stubborn and prideful man, that one." Stannis rises from his chair and starts to pace along the room. "I mean to settle peace with the Wildlings, if they swear me their fealty and to respect the Realm's laws of course. Surprisingly, he was willing to discuss about it. But, not with me."

"With whom then, if I may ask?"

"With you, Jon. Despite you played him, he still seems to have some consideration for you."

"I will do my best to help Your Grace. Could Your Grace advise me of his peace terms?"

"My Hand will give you the treaty I wrote. Be very clear with him that if he does not agree with this, he will leave me no other choice but to give him to the flames and find another Wildling leader that will comply."

"Permission to ask a last question, Your Grace?"

"Go on."

"You still have the intention to name a new Lord of Winterfell. May I please ask you who that will be?"

"In other times and other places, I would have answered you that it is none of your business. But here, what would it change? You have taken your decision, isn't it Jon Snow?"

"Aye, Your Grace. I did." He softly says, suddenly unsure if he really wants to know the answer.

"Despite what many say about me, I am not always that cold and insensitive man. I never took pleasure in making a woman unhappy and certainly not if the Lady is my ally. So, I will let Lady Stark choose her new husband…"

That last sentence makes Jon's heart suddenly skipping a beat and his body stiffens.

"I hope she will come with a name very soon. I have not much time to waste on that kind of details." Stannis lifts his gaze to Jon. "Try to get that peace settlement with Mance Rayder and I expect you tomorrow morning, first hour, at my council." He sends him off.

"I will, Your Grace." Jon bows before leaving the room.

.

"Sir Wylis, are you going to the practice yard this morning?" Arya asks him as he was coming out of the keep.

"I'm about aye, My Lady. Can I be of any help?"

"Would you be so kind to sword dance with me today? In Eastwatch, I could train with their Master-at-Arms, but here I don't know anyone yet."

"That would be my pleasure, Beth." He jests.

"Don't call me that! We don't have to pretend to be someone else anymore, right?"

"Right. Do you give me permission to call you Arya then?" He presents his arm for her to walk with him.

"Of course you may, Wylis." She accepts it, lightly blushing.

"Should we start to practice with the straw puppet? Or do you prefer killing me first?" He asks, making her giggle.

"Oh, they are already a lot of people busy here." Arya comments when she sees recruits practicing all over the yard.

"We will find a small spot for us, don't worry." He leads her to the armory to take some equipment.

"A shield? I never used one before." She says when he handed one to her.

"Well it's time to start a new practice. Sword dancing is not only to attack; you need protection from the blows coming at you." Wylis starts to walk around her in slow circles, sword in hand. "Get your shield up!" He gently orders.

"It's so heavy." Arya complains.

"It's as heavy as it needs to be to stop a blazing sword." He says, swinging a light blow on it.

"Hey, I wasn't ready yet!" She shouts, coming towards him and trying to hit him on the arm.

Wylis easily avoids it and slams his sword on the edge of her shield again, making her drop on one knee. "See why it's important to hold it high in front of you?" He explains as he points the wooden tip of his weapon at her throat.

"All right, you want to play it tough. Bring it on, Wylis!" She sends him a fiery gaze, preparing her next attack.

He winks at her, making a new step forward. Arya lifts the wooden board up just in time to catch his second blow and swings her own blade, trying to get on Wylis' ribs.

"Nice. Good try." He smiles, when he feels the impact on his own shield.

She tries another assault, but got nearly out of balance when Wylis jumps on the side.

"That was excellent, Arya. But you need to put your whole body into it." He continues to explain. "Put your weight behind the steel and you'll have more power than with your arm strength alone. And that would avoid you to go out of balance too. Look. One, two, three." He shows her how to do it against the straw puppet. "Let's try again. Keep the shield against your body, at shoulder height and lifts it high only to thwart my blow."

Instead of attacking up front, Arya bends down and with a rotational motion, she hits Wylis' left leg with the flat of her wooden sword.

"Ouch! That was not fair playing, My Lady." He rubs his aching thigh.

"The shield might protect your upper body, but what about the lower parts." She jests with a half mocking smile.

"Oh, I see. Retaliation that will be!" He drops his weapon and shield and starts to run after her. When he grabs her by the waist, he starts to tickle her.

"I yield, I yield!" She screams, bursting into laughter.

"Really? You yield a little bit too easy in my opinion." He continues his soft torture.

"Please hold it, Wylis. I'm begging you. I promise, I won't do it again." She turns around and falls face to face with him. They both freeze, staring into each other's eyes, Wylis' face lightly approaching. "I'll better go help Ylliria. Thanks for the lesson, Sir." She breaks the spell, feeling suddenly uneasy.

"Wylis." He softly reminds, letting her go.

"Thank you, Wylis." She looks to pick up her gear.

"I'll take care of those Arya. Will I see you at diner?"

"Probably." She runs up the stairs that leads to their rooms and suddenly freezes when she sees Ylliria on the balcony.

"Is Wylis a good Master-at-Arms?" She asks her.

"Not too bad." Arya shrugs, lightly blushing.

Ylliria watches her running towards their rooms, a little smirk on her face.

.

With the roll of parchment he received from Davos in his hand, Jon goes to the Castle's prison.

"Look who's here. Jon 'The Turncloak' Snow." Mance welcomes him. "I was wondering if you would come to say goodbye to your old friend before they'll burn me."

"You won't burn, Mance. If you settle peace with the King, your life will be spared."

"I don't think so." He shrugs. "Please have a seat." He points at a stool.

"Here are King Stannis' terms for peace." Jon hands him the rolled paper.

"Hum, hum." Mance quickly reads it through and puts it aside on the table. "There is something I need to talk to you about before we start this discussion. I heard that the Lady Ylliria Bennett finally arrived at Castle Black."

"It's the Lady Ylliria Stark now. She married my brother Robb."

"Oh poor thing. So young and already a widow." Mance sighs. "How is she doing?"

"What do you care?" Jon flings.

"You never wondered why I asked you so many questions about her when we first met in my camp."

"Well, I don't know. You seemed to be interested in a lot of things. I just thought you wanted to destabilize me."

"Destabilize you, huh? Jon, since I know you, you always amazed me with your quick understanding and the way you could analyze a situation in no time. It made me wonder why you weren't more curious about the subject. Or maybe, you didn't want to talk about her. That's it, huh?"

"Well, I'm asking you the question now then. Why are you mentioning the Lady Stark so often? Why all those questions about her? What is she to you?"

"Ylliria? She means a lot to me too, Jon." Mance scoffs, bending towards the young man. "I need to see her." He whispers.

"Why?"

"Only on this one condition I am willing to settle peace between my Wildlings and your King."

"Why?" Jon insists. "Why her in particular?"

"Because, we are related… Ylliria is my niece." Mance rises from his stool and walks towards the small opening in the wall where light hardly makes its way in the cell.

"What? That's impossible. Her whole family was massacred when she was a little girl."

"And it's because she was a little girl that she probably does not remember me. My real name is Sir Rayman Bennett. Her father Harry was my older brother."

"How did you land here playing the role of a King-beyond-the-Wall, living with Wildlings? Why did you never send a word to her? Can you imagine how much she suffered to be a sole survivor, not knowing what really happened to her family? I can't remember the countless times I tried to console her when she was crying in her bed." He furiously comes.

"You seemed to care a lot about her." Mance softly answers. "I saw it in your eye the first time I pronounced her name in front of you."

"If you knew about her existence and if you knew that she was living in Winterfell, why did you never show up when you were still a Sworn Brother?"

"I had my reasons. It was safer for her not to know I was alive at the time."

"Why do you want to tell her now? After all she's been through already?"

"I will answer all those questions when I see her." Mance grasps Jon's sleeve. "Please Jon bring her to me, before Stannis and his Red witch give me to the flames."

.


	106. Chapter 106

Chapter 106: Finding answers in the books

Sam is climbing the stairs leading to Maester Aemon's quarters. He is puffing from the weight of the pile of books and rolls he carries and has to stop in the middle of the way to take his breath.

"Do you want a hand with that, Sam?" Ylliria asks as she passes by him.

"That would be very kind of you, My Lady."

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Ylliria, Sam?" She gently reprimands him, grabbing half of the pile.

"I'm sorry, Ylliria." He smiles.

"Where did you find all those books? I'm craving to read something new. I practically know by heart the three books I brought with me."

"There is a huge Library in the basement of the main keep. Over the years, all the successive Maesters of Castle Black have built up a collection of sort. And all the Night's Watch's archives are assembled there as well. Maester Aemon asked me to find everything we have about the Others."

"What are the Others exactly?" She questions, continuing their way to the Maester's quarters.

"Also known as the White-Walkers. An ancient legend from the time of the First Men and the Children of the Forest tells that during the winter that lasted for a generation, known as the Long Night, this tribe descended from the Lands of Always Winter to attack Westeros." Sam patiently explains. "No one really knew why they came, but they killed all that crossed their path. And they reanimated the dead to help them to massacre the living at their will. But, the people of Westeros rallied together and defeated the Others during the War for the Dawn. And that is the reason the Wall was build; to avoid the White-Walkers to return and to protect the realm from another invasion of any sort." He opens the door and let Ylliria passing through.

"I heard some of your Brothers say that you killed one of those creatures. So, are they still around?" She asks, putting down the books on the table.

"Most believe they never existed; that this is just a legend build up to frightening misbehaving children." He shyly answers, as he was apologizing. "But, I saw what I saw and what I killed was certainly not human."

"What are they looking like? Can we differentiate them from us?"

"Oh aye, the Seven be praised for it. They have a human form, though, but taller than us. They have shinny white hair, icy blue eyes and a pale dry wrinkled skin, like mummies."

"Brrr… That's scary." She shivers.

"A lot of dark things are living behind this Wall, Ylliria. And that is why it is so important the Night's Watch continues its mission and keep the Realm safe."

"I know the importance of the Night's Watch. What are you trying to tell me, Sam?"

"Nothing! Nothing!" He rapidly says, his eyes suddenly widening.

"I know about Jon's decision to become the next Lord Commander." She sadly comments.

"Oh!"

"Even if I don't like his decision, there is not much I can do about it. It's his life and he is a free man." She shrugs, her eyes starting to moisten.

"I am sure that it's as much painful for him as it is for you, Ylliria." He gently puts a hand on her forearm. "I know how much you mean to him. And frankly, I do not understand his decision either."

"Well, it seems I mean less than the Night's Watch in his eyes."

"Don't say that! If you knew how much he is blaming himself for everything that happened. He even ran away once, when he learned about his father imprisonment in King's Landing and his brother calling the Bannermen."

"What stopped him?"

"We stopped him." He lowers his head at the confession.

"We?"

"Pyp, Grenn and I. We didn't want him to get caught and beheaded for desertion. He is our friend and Brother. We wanted to protect him from himself. But, oh boy, was he eager to run back to Winterfell to make sure you were unharmed and safe." Sam smiles.

"Really?"

"Aye… He even still carries your…" He briskly stops.

"His what?" Ylliria asks.

"I should not have said that. As usual, I'm talking too much." He gets up and starts to rummage in the books and rolls. "I'll better get started to read all this. Maester Aemon need my report as soon as possible."

"Sam, please look at me." She comes near him. "I feel so confused since I arrived at the Wall. When I traveled to Eastwatch, it was a joy to know I would see Jon again. It was like retrieving a lost brother or... But since I saw him in the flesh..." She sighs, making a step away from Sam. "I'm happy that he has friends around that care so much about him. I wish I had Belinda next to me right now. She always could answer my questions and gives me good advice."

"I'd like to be your friend too… But, I do not know much about women issues." He softly smiles.

"I already consider you as my friend, Sam. I'm already thankful to you we can talk openly about all things. I know I am putting you in a difficult position. But, I will never ask from you to betray your friendship with Jon." She's taking a deep breath. "Well, since I kept you so long from your work, I might as well help you reading this stack."

"If you have the time for it, it will be a real pleasure. Thank you, Ylliria."

They both sit around the table, each grabbing a book and starting to read.

.

In the middle of the afternoon, Ylliria starts to yawn. "I think I need a break. My eyes are burning and I'm starving. Do you want me to bring you something, Sam?" She gently asks.

"I don't know if Hobb's kitchens are open at this hour."

"I'm sure I will be able to find some cheese and left over bread without needing the cook; and maybe some ale to wash it down. What do you think?"

"Good for me." Sam shrugs when the door suddenly opens.

"I was seeking for you." Jon says, looking at Ylliria. "There is something important I need to talk to you about."

"You changed your mind about being a Lord Commander?" She asks, with some irony in her voice.

"No, not exactly." He lowers his head. "I've just made aware of something about your family."

"I'll fetch the food, so you may discuss in private." Sam rises from his chair.

"Thank you, my friend." Jon answers, petting the chubby man's shoulder and opening the door for him.

"What about my family?" She anxiously asks.

"Please, Ylliria, sit down. What I'm about to tell you might come as a shock."

"Jon, you're frightening me. I beg you to speak."

He takes a deep breath. "What do you exactly remember about your family?"

"You know the answer to that, not much."

"Do you know if your father had a brother? A younger brother?"

She gazes at the table, trying to recollect any souvenir. "No, I'm sorry. I just know I had a brother, because Lord Stark told me. Do you think I still might have uncles and aunts somewhere? Why do you ask me this now and here?"

"Ylliria, it seems that we have your uncle Rayman in custody."

"My uncle? Are you sure?" She stares at him, dumbfounded.

Jon nods.

"Why did we never hear about him before? And what is he doing at the wall?"

"He will answer all your questions." He gently takes her hand in his.

"Who is he? And why did you put him in custody?"

"He is in prison because..." He sighs. "Ylliria, Mance Rayder is your uncle."

"The Wildling's King?"

"He was not always with the Wildlings. He was a Sworn Brother before turning his cloak and fled behind the Wall."

"Oh dear! But why did he do that? Why didn't he come to see me before?"

"I know that you must have a lot of questions about this. You will have to ask him because he requested to see you."

"I will see him." She finally says after a long silence. "I deserve that much; he's the first of my family I've ever heard off. He might know things from my past. Things that I need to know."

"We will have to ask permission to the King, but I'm already glad you agreed to see him."

"Why?"

"Because, he won't seal peace with Stannis until he spoke with you."

"If he really is family how can I not go and talk to him? I dreamed all my life for something like this to happen."

Jon clears his throat. "Ylliria, there is something else you need to know. There is a slight chance that even if Mance agrees to the King's terms, he will be put to death for desertion and treason."

"No, if he is the only family I have, I won't let that happen." She frowns.

"It's not the only family you have." Jon says a little too quickly.

She turns her face towards him, looking deeply in his eyes. "Then, why are you abandoning me?"

"I'm not abandoning you, Ylliria. I just make a choice of life. I'm struggling so much trying to regain my honor. Accepting Stannis' proposal will just go the opposite way; putting my ambition and my pride before my values."

"It looks like a punishment to me." She lowers her gaze. "Don't martyr yourself, Jon. Listen to what your heart really tells you to do." She pleads, coming closer to him.

"I wish it was that easy, Ylliria." He gently brushes a hand along her cheek. "I really wish I could do what you ask from me." He whispers, slowly approaching his face from hers. "I can't... You are my brother's spouse." He briskly stands up, turning his back on her.

"I'm your brother's widow, Jon. Robb is dead, remember." She says with tears in her voice.

"Did you love him?"

"From the bottom of my heart. And I still do. I swear I never faked my feelings for him. But, there are different from the ones I still feel for you."

"Despite what you might think, Ylliria, you were the first wo..." Jon suddenly hushes up when Sam enters the room, holding a large tray with food and drink.

"I took enough for three." He joyfully says, looking at both of them. "Did I interrupt something? Do you want me to leave again?" He asks when he sees Ylliria and Jon's closed faces.

"No, I was just about to leave." Jon speaks first. "I will ask permission to King Stannis and let you know, Ylliria." He grabs the door and exists.

"Is everything fine, Ylliria?" Sam softly asks.

"Let us continue to read and have your report finished, Sam. Please..." She takes another book from the pile.

He grabs a slice of bread and some cheese and sits down at his side of the table, staring at her. He wonders what Jon might have said to have turned her so sad.

.


	107. Chapter 107

Chapter 107: A New Lord Commander at Castle Black.

Maester Aemon, guided by his steward, slowly arrives in King Stannis' main room.

"So, good Maester, do we eventually have a final vote for our new Lord Commander?"

"Yes, Your Grace, we have." With a shaking hand, the old man hands him a roll of parchment. "The results have been summarized on here."

"Hum..." The King scratches at his three days' stubble.

"Is Your Grace not satisfied?" Aemon asks, troubled.

"I am satisfied that it finally happened... But less satisfied by the results; even if I already knew what name would be on this paper." Stannis throws the roll on his table. "Maester, please have a seat." He waits till Clydas helps him to sit. "You have been at the Wall for nearly your entire life. You know all those men better than they probably know themselves. Honestly tell me; is there any other possible candidate for this position?"

"Your Grace, it is true I know those men very well. And frankly, Jon has all the required qualities to fulfill this duty perfectly. All our Brothers respect him, despite his young age. Just look at the results of the vote. It's obvious."

"But I need him as my principal Lord in the North. He is my hope to reconquer Westeros and free the realm from corruption, falsity and despair. Our dear people suffer, Maester, and need to be saved and protected."

"So, what you ask from me is to dissuade Jon decline the position and follow you instead." The old man slowly shakes his head. "But, I though the Lady Stark was to decide who would be the next Lord of Winterfell?"

"There is recently a new element that came to my attention." Stannis clears his throat. "It seems the Young Wolfe left a testament naming Jon Snow as his lawful Heir."

"Above his own wife? But, there is still no absolute certainty that the younger Stark brothers are dead."

"Tywin Lannister has wed his son Tyrion with Sansa Stark to ensure his hand on Winterfell. Robb Stark had no other option if he wanted to keep it under Northern authority. And at the same time, he could also protect his wife. As we both know, murder is just a detail for the Lannisters."

"I was not aware of that, Your Grace. News from the realm takes sometimes a long time to arrive at the Wall." He raises his blind eyes towards the King. "But, even knowing this, I cannot do what you ask from me, Your Grace. He is a free man and in his free will he became a Sworn Brother once saying the oath."

"Oath that he already broke once!" Stannis snaps. "Oh very well then... You may withdraw, Maester." He briskly sends him away.

"Your Grace." Aemon painfully bows, Clydas holding him tight.

"Lord Seaworth!" The King calls.

"Your Grace?" Davos arrives, running.

"Order the Night's-Watch to gather in the yard by sundown. I have an announcement to make."

"At once, Your Grace." He bows and quickly leaves the office.

.

From above the dais, Stannis keeps the Sworn Brothers on their knees for an extraordinary long time. "Rise." He finally shouts with a gesture of his hand.

The sound of Lord Janos Slynt clearing his throat and coming forward breaks the heavy silence around. "Permission to speak, Your Grace."

"Hum." The King just voices.

"Since your arrival here, Your Grace, I didn't have the chance to speak with you. Let me now take this opportunity to say how pleased we are to have you at Castle Black. When I saw your banners from the Wall, I knew the realm was saved. 'There comes a man who never forgets his duty', I said to the good Sir Alliser. 'A strong man and a true King'. May I personally congratulate you on your victory over these savages."

"Spare me your toadying, Janos, it won't serve you." Stannis snaps. "At least you could have waited till I'd finish my announcement. I'm not sure you will use the same wording." Stannis half-smiles while the Lord is stepping backwards with a contrite look over his face. "Good men of the Night's-Watch." He raises his voice. "You have made your decision clear. Your dear Maester has handed me the results of your voting. I officially announce you that the 998th Lord Commander of the Night's-Watch is Jon Snow!"

Jon climbs the stairs to the dais accompanied by the cheers and the clapping from the men gathered in the yard.

Stannis vigorously shakes his hand. "Like I told you, I will use of the Lord Commander as much as my new Lord of Winterfell. What do you say we start our urgent matters immediately over dinner?"

"I will be very honored, Your Grace." Jon softly says, his gaze following Ylliria and Arya that are leaving the balcony of the Common Hall.

.

Back in their room, Ylliria cannot hold back her tears. She sits on her bed, hiding her face behind her hands.

"What are we going to do now?" Arya softly asks, putting an arm around the young woman's shoulders.

"Honestly, I don't know." Ylliria sobs. "Jon has to deny the Edict in order for me to marry another man that will be the next Lord of Winterfell. But I don't know who to choose? And King Stannis already warned me if I don't give him a name quickly, he will impose me one."

"Are there any laws against forced-marriages?"

"Sweetling, since the men are men, they never consider to ask a woman who she loves or who she'd like to marry. Fathers just throw their daughters to that highest bidder. Your father had other ideas and let us free to choose, but it is not common doing."

"If that is what it is, I will never marry." Arya hugs Ylliria a little tighter.

"And as long as I am around, you will do whatever you like, my love." She kisses her forehead.

"You could marry Sam… He is a nice man and he knows a lot of things."

"Sam is not a Northerner, Sweetling. But thank you for trying to help me."

"I could talk to Jon. I always was his favorite sister. Maybe he will listen to me."

"Jon made his decision clear. He already told me he wouldn't change his mind, even if that means denying Robb's last will." Tears falling along her face again. "I naively thought what we felt for each other back in Winterfell would still be there today. But, I was wrong or maybe I was the only one having those feelings."

"I always knew there was more than friendship between you, it was so obvious. Even if I was still a little girl, when I saw you with him, I felt kind of jealous." She lightly blushed, ashamed.

"Really?"

Arya nods. "That would have been so perfect; you and Jon with me and Wylis, rebuilding Winterfell. I even imagined Sam as our Maester." She smiles.

"You like Wylis a lot, huh?" Ylliria softly says not to scare her off the subject again.

"Well, if I have to be totally honest with myself, I will admit that a tiny little something is tickling in me when I'm around him." She giggles.

"Did you already notice if he showed some interest in you?"

"He is always kind to me, always smiling, coming to sit next to me for dinner and all. We are talking a lot and also goofing around. But, maybe he only does this because he sees me as a little girl. I don't know." She shrugs.

"Sweetling, you are not a little girl anymore. You are a woman grown now."

Arya lifts her head, a worried look on her face.

"You tried to hide it from me, but I saw the bleeding, my love." She surrounds her cheeks with her hands. "There is nothing to worry about. You will have those bleedings every month. It's the sign you can mother children."

"Only if I sleep with a man." Arya sternly adds.

"Of course." Ylliria smiles. "It seems you already have some information on the subject."

"What do I do now about Wylis?"

"Hum… The fastest way would be to talk with him about how you feel. But, it also could be a very hard way in case it's not mutual."

"True, but at least I would not linger about it. He expects me for dinner tonight. I will ask him."

"Try to find a place where you can discuss privately and not in the middle of the common room, with everybody around."

"And what about you, Ylliria?"

"I will do what I usually do and like Robb taught me to. I will find my own isolated spot and think about it till I find a solution. Don't worry for me, Sweetling, I feel much better already. Thanks to you." She smiles.

.

In the private dining room in the King's Keep, Jon is sitting at Stannis' left, with Melisandre in front of him and next to Lord Davos.

"I will need to use several Castles along the Wall as garrison houses for my men." The King explains, before biting avidly in a chicken leg. "At least for a moment; till we are ready to descend North. Eastwatch, Castle Black and Shadow Tower will remain to the Night's Watch's, as you always have. But I must take the others for my own Army."

"Some of the abandoned Castles are all in total ruins, Your Grace." Jon states.

"Ruins can be rebuilt… Just as Winterfell." Stannis says with a sly grin. "I shall require a list detailing the present state of every Castle. I mean to have them all garrisoned again before the end of the year."

"I will see that you receive that report as soon as possible, Your Grace." Jon makes a hold movement to the man that was refilling his cup of wine.

"Loosen-up, Lord Commander. You have the right to celebrate your election. I can guarantee you that the Wall will not melt tonight." Melisandre says with a flirtatious tone.

"You saw that in your flames, My Lady?" He dryly answers. "What else did you see for me?"

"I still see you riding a white stallion, wearing a flamboyant armor, your longsword in hand, entering the yard of a ruined Castle, acclaimed by a crowd of scrawny people."

"Nonsense!" He flings. "I chose my path and I am now willing to follow it to the end."

"Never say never, Lord Snow."

"I am no Lord."

"Well it seems that you are now!" Stannis joyfully says. "Lord Commander of the Night's Watch!" He starts to guffaw at the amazement of Davos that never saw his King so effusive.

"Your Grace, as a kindness, would you grand another visitor to see Mance Rayder?" Jon seriously comes

"This man is a deserter from your order. Your brothers are all insisting on his death. Why should I do him a kindness?"

"If not for him, could you allow it for the Lady? He's the only family she has left and has so many unknowns about House Bennett."

"You seem to be very fond of the Lady Ylliria, My good Lord Snow."

Jon stays silent, lowering his gaze on his empty plate.

"She is very comely, isn't she?" The King insists.

"She is, Your Grace." He softly admits.

"But not enough, it seems, for you to accept my proposal." He shrugs. "Very well, I allow the Lady Stark to visit her uncle. And get me that peace treaty sealed, Lord Commander!" Stannis orders.

.


	108. Chapter 108

Chapter 108: Remainder from the past.

Ylliria enters the dark corridor that leads to the Castle Black's icy prison cells. She wraps herself a little tighter in her furry cloak as the temperature drastically drops. "How can anyone survive in these conditions?" She frowns.

"The prisoners are receiving enough furs, food and drink to keep warm, My Lady." The guard gently answers her.

Before continuing her way to Mance Rayder's cell, she briskly stops.

"Ylliria? Are you all right?" Jon worriedly asks.

"Could you let me see him alone? I just need a few minutes." She whispers.

"Ylliria." He sighs. "I know Mance enough to be sure that he couldn't invent the fact of being your uncle, but I prefer staying with you in case of..."

"In case of what?" She cuts him. "Do you really believe he would harm me? For what purpose?"

"Revenge."

"Towards whom?"

"Me... I betrayed him, Ylliria. Well, he must feel betrayed with what I've done and probably make me responsible for the loss of his pregnant wife during the battle."

"You told me he was asking questions about me way before all this happened. Please Jon, just a few minutes; it's all I ask for. I promise I'll scream at any wrong move he might make."

He sighs again, looking at the guard. "Stay here and wait till I come back." He gently orders her, taking the men by the sleeve, whispering something to him before letting him leave the keep. A few minutes later, the man comes back with two other guards. "Just for a few minutes!" He warns Ylliria. "And you call at any signs of danger."

"Thank you." She softly mouth before taking a deep breath and continuing along the corridor. The guard opens the cell door for her and withdraws. For a moment, she stands at the entrance, staring at the men lying on his bunk. "Uncle Rayman?" She softly calls, finally making a step in.

"By all the good Old Gods! My sweet nice!" Mance briskly gets up. "Let me have a good look at you. Oh, you look so much like your mother at the same age. I would have recognize you among a thousand." He says full of emotion, making a step towards her.

She backs up.

"Don't frighten away, my child. I will never do you any harm." He smiles, holding out his hand.

"Why did you never come to Winterfell while I was there?"

"I wanted to keep you safe. Ylliria, I will answer all your questions. But first, let me have a good look at you. Will you let me approach?"

She nods, making a step toward him.

He puts his hands on her shoulders and softly chuckles. "No doubt, you're my brother's daughter. You're having that same expression when he was upset or worried about something. Your mother's beauty and your father's temper. I'm sure not many can get the upper hand against you."

"Don't be so sure of that, Uncle." She sadly comes.

"If you are talking about that young fool that is waiting at the entrance of this corridor, don't worry. He'll change his mind." He winks, inviting her to sit next to him on the bunk.

Ylliria looks abash at Mance.

"You don't need to be a soothsayer to know how Jon feels about you, my child. His face is speaking for itself. As soon as your name is pronounced, there is a sort of little flame glowing in his eyes."

"Even if his face is saying one thing, his mouth is saying another. He is the new Lord Commander now."

"Aye, I heard the announcement. My little window gives in the yard." He gently takes her hand in his. "But, you should not be..." He briskly stops talking when he notices a black shadow at the door.

Ylliria lifts her gaze to see Jon entering the cell. "See, I'm perfectly fine!" She snaps.

"You requested a few minutes and they are passed." He sounds apologetic, taking the stool from under the table to sit in front of them. "So, you believe him? Is he your uncle?"

"Aye, he is... I see a lot of my father in his features." She coldly states. "Uncle Rayman, please tell me what happened to our family." She asks, softening her voice.

"Please call me Mance. I'm used to that name now. Rayman died a long time ago." He gently smiles at her. "Are you sure you want to know? It's all in the past." He pleads.

"All my life, I wonder what happened and why our family was murdered. And the only memories I have are the ones that Lord Eddard told me, no much really. And also some blurry nightmares I sometimes do."

"Very well." Mance clear is throat, putting his hands on his knees and dropping his gaze on the floor. "It all started during Robert Baratheon's Rebellion. Both your fathers..." He lifts his head to briefly look at Jon and Ylliria. "And all the Northern Bannermen were called for battle. After Robert's decisive victory at the Battle of the Trident and when he became the new King of Westeros, he chose my brother Harry as Hand above Tywin Lannister."

Ylliria tenses up at the name, a shiver running down her spine. Jon stretches out his arm to put a protective hand over hers.

"Robert could definitively not trust a man that changed side so easily as soon as the Targaryens were dethroned. That Lannister only has one goal in life, the prestige of his House and all means are good to achieve that. So, after that first blow, Tywin subtly changed tactics. One day, he asks Harry if he would agree to betrothed your brother Baldric with his daughter Cercei as soon as they both came to age. Your father didn't want to make such an alliance. He already had the intention to marry his elder son with Eddard's future first born daughter. This wedding would have raised both our Houses - Starks and Bennetts - to the two most powerful ones in the North and strengthened Robert's position as King or the realm. Tywin took that as second blow and from that day he became our families' worst enemy." He lifts his gaze towards Ylliria. "I told your father about the plotting and the potential danger of this man. I heard rumors at court about his manners to deal with people standing in his way. But, Harry thought I was overreacting and seeing the worse in every situation. It's truen back in the days, I was kind of paranoiac. And maybe, still are." He softly smiles at Jon. "But, Westeros was at peace and it was time to put all our quarrels behind. So, I stop nagging him with that." He drops his head and gaze at the floor again. "After a whole year in the Capital, your father's returned to Garrymount. He had decided to delegate me our House's various businesses and named me his lawful Heir till Baldric's majority. A few weeks later, he sent me to Ramsgate to oversee some shipments of wood to King's Landing. There were some problems with delays and Harry wanted to know what was happening down there." He stops a few seconds to take a deep breath. "One morning, a messenger arrived with urgent word from Eddard, advising me to ride back to Winterfell as soon as I could. Something terrible had happened." He lifts a sad face towards Ylliria. "When I entered the yard at Winterfell, the first thing I saw was you, terrified little girl in Catelyn's arms. While Ed was delivering me the terrible news, you crawled up on my lap and felt asleep. Lady Catelyn told me afterwards that you didn't sleep or eat much since they brought you back from Garrymount."

"How come I don't remember all that?" Ylliria whispers. "And why did Lord Stark never told me this?"

"I ask him not to..." He pauses.

"Why?"

"Ed didn't spare me any details on what happened at Garrymount. A group of brigands attacked it, he said. But, the time word arrived at Winterfell and he and his men could ride to the rescue, it was already too late. They found everyone dead and the Castle plundered and destroyed. He found you in the middle of the yard with your little arms around your dead mother."

Ylliria cannot hold back her tears. Jon stands up, but Mance is faster to put a reassuring arm around her shoulders.

"Did they find the murderers? Those brigands?" She sobs, laying her head against her uncle's chest, welcoming his embrace.

"Well, the only witnesses Ed's men found were the children. Those bastards had mercifully spared them. They have pretty good described one of perpetrators... And there we knew." Mance suddenly stops.

"Knew who did it?" Jon asks.

"Better... Knew who ordered it. It wasn't a random attack." He darkly answers. "But unfortunately, we never could find solid proof to bring them to justice."

"Who was it, Uncle?" Ylliria whispers, her eyes showing a mix of expectation and fear. "Who killed our family?"

"Sweetling, let us leave all this in the past. Knowing won't change anything. It's too late for revenge. And we have other matters of concern right now."

"I need to hear out loud if the shadow that haunts my nightmares is the one that murdered our family." She suddenly rises up, pushing Mance away. "Say it, Uncle!"

He deeply sighs. "The man the kids could describe was without a doubt Gregor Clegane."

"The mountain that rides?" Jon questions. "So, the one who gave the order… Is Tywin Lannister."

"So, my nightmares were reminiscence of real facts. Something a little girl saw; what I saw." Ylliria whispers. "Uncle!" She briskly turns around to face Mance. "You have to sign the peace treaty with Stannis and help him to fight against the Lannisters. You will come with me to rebuild Winterfell and Garrymount. We can do this together. Retake what our families have lost. Retake what's ours."

"Sweetling, Stannis and the Night's Watch, both, want my skin. I don't think they will just let me walk free."

She turns towards Jon. "You are the next Lord Commander. So, you have the power to pardon him, right?"

"Ylliria." He sighs. "It's going to be more complicated than that."

"Are you even refusing to grand me this? After you're already abandoning me?" She raises her voice, her arms crossed over her breast.

"I already told you, I am not abandoning you, Ylliria. I made a choice of life and I have to stick with it!" He screams, facing her.

"Oh, yes... Your precious little honor goes above your own family! What kind of honor is that, huh?"

"Ylliria, from the start I told you..."

"Hold you horses, both of you damned!" Mance flings, taking them apart at arms length. "You know what I just witness here? Two stubborn and spoiled kids fighting over nothing, just for the fun of arguing!" He reprimands them. "You definitively need to seriously talk to each other and get everything off your chests. And preferably by leaving your stupid egos aside while doing it!"

"But, he...?" She starts. Mance cuts her by pointing a threatening finger in front of her nose.

"I do not start to comprehend why you never had the courage to speak up. What is so terrible in your feelings? You love him and you love her." He successively looks at them. "What in the Seven Heavens stopped you from getting married and raise a family? I'm sure even Ed would have been happy about it."

"I'm not sure of that." Jon whispers. "And it's too late now anyways."

"Like I said, stubborn!" Mance rolls his eyes to the ceiling. "All right, let me sign the treaty."

"No!" Ylliria yells. "Not before we have certainties you'll be spared." She looks angrily at Jon.

"If we had a precedent of pardon in a similar case, that would make it easier. A Lord Commander does not have full power to do what he wants. I still have a staff and a chain of command to answer to." Jon calmly explains.

"Sam and I will search the archives. And we will find your bloody precedent!" She snaps.

"And what about Stannis?" Mance asks.

"I'll deal with the King. He won't jeopardize his goal on sitting on the Iron Throne because of one single man. Whoever he is and whatever he did."

"Ink and quill!" Jon orders to the guard, waiting in the corridor for him to return.

"You seem so sure of yourself, my dear Ylliria. I see my brother in a woman's skin." Mance laughs, taking her in his arms. "I will follow you to the Seven Hells, if you ask me to." He whispers in her ear.

"Thank you for telling me our story, Uncle. It's like a heavy load lifted off my back. Now, I can imagine a future for the surviving Starks, for me... For us."

"Promise me one thing." He pauses, staring at her. "Calmly discuss your situation through with Jon. Tell him how your feel about him."

"I already told him what I feel. But..." She sighs.

"Mance..." Jon softly calls, handing him the quill and holding the parchment flat on the table.

.


	109. Chapter 109

Chapter 109: A Ghost that changes the future.

Ylliria is looking for Sam. She finds him, concentrated over another roll of parchment in Maester Aemon's quarters.

"Sam, sorry to disturb you but I need to ask you something." She gently says, not wanting to startle him. "Could you please show me the way to the Library? I need to retrieve something."

"What do you need exactly?"

"A precedent to a Pardon of a Brother accused of desertion."

"Oh dear, that won't be easy to find. Not to mention that the Library is in a total mess. I try to put some order since I'm back, but it takes time." He frowns. "And I can already tell you that I never red something about that."

"Did you get through all the archives?"

"No, that would need a triple lifetime to do so." He shyly smiles. "And most of what I already red were books."

"So, just show me the way and I'll deal with it." She stubbornly says.

"Ylliria, it's dark and cold down there. Some documents are so old that there are falling apart at the slightest touch. Not to mention the rats wondering around." He tries to dissuade her.

She narrows her gaze; her arms crossed and impatiently starting to tap a food on the floor.

"Let me first ask the question to Master Aemon, maybe he will recall something about a precedent. I'll get back to you."

"It's urgent, Sam... My uncle's life is at stake."

"I'll hurry up." He runs up the stairs to rejoin the Master in the rockery.

.

While Sam is making his research on a precedent, Ylliria decides to gather his Lords and have a small council.

"My Lords, I think it's nearly time for us to leave the Wall and march down North. King Stannis is eager to reconquer Westeros and to sit on the Iron Throne." She looks around the table for approving.

"From what I heard, Stannis wants first to settle his men along the Wall before descending towards the realm. He does not seem to be ready to go." Sir Wylis comments.

"Stannis and his men will indeed stay here for now. Our mission will be to contact and convince our Northern Lords of the righteousness of the King's cause, find men to rebuild a decent Army and prepare ourselves for the battles to come." She continues to explain.

"My Lady, with all due respect." Lord Manderly gently starts. "Where are we going to find the coin to pay for all this? For the moment, we are living on the Brothers of the Night's-Watch's generosity." He sighs "Our Lords have returned poor from the war of the Five Kings; their lands are without farming and their people have fled the countries. Will King Stannis give us guarantees that all our efforts will be rewarded in honors as well as in money?"

"As you say so justly, My Lord, we are living on the generosity of the Brothers. That is one of the reasons I decide it's time to leave. But, your point is duly noted." Ylliria smiles at him. "What do you propose, then, My Lords?" She sweeps the table once more.

"You could write letters to the Northern Lords to advise them of the situation and what is expected from them. Wait and see who will reply back, My Lady?" Lady Mormont proposes.

"That will take forever and we aren't sure who is going to receive our message. Friends or foes? Who knows who resides in the Northern Castles now?" Sir Wylis virulently replies.

"True for sure, Wylis!" Ylliria frowns. "So, are we facing another deadlock? Will we be forced to stay here forever?"

"Not necessarily." Lord Umber begins in his low voice. "We could split our men in three groups. One group could follow the East coast, another through the West and a third marching down the center. Smaller groups go less noticed. And we can send scouts ahead and be aware on what is up front. It would be a slow run, but we could still be able to cover lots of ground at the same time."

"And the food problem?" Lord Manderly retorts.

"My Lord, I have lived from my rivers and my woods, better than from my lands. We are all seasoned soldiers and good hunters. I think we will manage to feed everyone. On the other hand, drinks might be a problem! What is a day without ale of wine?" The Greatjon guffaws, making half the room laughing with him.

"I have to think about all this." Ylliria softly cuts. "May I count on you to do the same, My Lords?"

"Of course, My Lady." Lord Umber gently taps on her hand.

"Thank you." She stands up. "I thank all of you, for still supporting me in this." She lightly bows her head and goes for the door, Sir Wylis on her heels.

.

"My Lady?" Wylis gently calls. "May I have a word with you in private?"

"Sure. Accompany me to Maester Aemon's apartments; we can talk on the way."

He presents her his arm that she willingly accepts. "I heard that you were able to visit your uncle? What were the odds for such a reunion in these far lands, My Lady."

"I'm still surprised myself." She smiles. "My Uncle Rayman has accepted the Stannis' Peace Treaty. Now, I hope the King will accept to let him go free. But, I still have a problem with the Night's-Watch, though. It seems that the new Lord Commander needs a precedent to be able to grant his pardon for the accusation of desertion." She explains with a reproaching tone.

Wylis starts to laugh.

"What did I say that was so funny?"

"You made 'Lord Commander' sound like an insult. Poor Lord Snow. I though you liked him." He says, still smiling.

"Does everybody at the Wall know about my feelings?" She flings, falsely angry.

"No, I reassure you. It's Arya who told me." He suddenly becomes serious again. "Speaking of which." He clears his throat. "May I ask you permission to court the Lady Arya?"

Ylliria briskly stops. "She told you? And you are..." She unexpectedly hugs him. "I am so happy for her... And of you... And of course, I give you my blessing!"

"It seems I was the last one told on this matter." He jests. "Thank you, My Lady. I know she is still too young to marry and I will wait till the time is right. But, I would already like to reassure you that my feelings for her are real and strong."

"I have no doubt of that, Wylis. I will formalize your betrothal at our next council."

"May I tell Arya about this?" He smiles, eager to run away.

"You may." She gently pushes him, giving him permission to leave.

As soon as Wylis is out of sight, her face slowly darkens, her own situation coming back to haunt her. She shakes her head to shift it away and goes up the stairs leading to Maester Aemon's quarters. She knocks at the door, waiting for an answer before entering. She lightly jolts when Sam hurriedly opens it.

"Ah, there you are! Come, come... I might have some good news for you." He joyfully says, making nervous gestures for her to follow him. He leads her to another little room on the side. "This is my private office." He smiles, presenting her a chair. "So, I asked the question to Maester Aemon about that precedent." He starts, sitting next to her. "And, he recalled only one case where a Brother of the Night's-Watch, accused of treason, was pardoned. But, it was a King that pardoned the man, not a Lord Commander."

"And we have a King on hand."

Sam clears his throat. "He is not officially the King of the Seven Kingdoms yet, Ylliria. But, maybe if Jon reads this roll." He shows it to her. "He might find it sufficient to convince the Night's-Watch's council."

"Well, that will have to do. It's all we have." She says. "May I take this roll? I'd like to speak about it with Jon myself. And also about some other matters. He'd better listen to all I'll have to say to him!" She hardens her tone.

"Oh." The chubby man mouths.

"What?"

He sighs. "Don't be too hard on him, Ylliria."

"I'll see what I can do." She rises, trying to put a smile on her face. "Thank you for helping me, Sam."

"You're very welcome, Ylliria."

.

Dolorous Edd advises Ylliria that the Lord Commander is on top of the Wall, making an inspection. She decides to rejoin him, finding it the perfect place to have their most likely last discussion. At least, they will be alone with little chance to be disturbed or eavesdropped. During the ascent of the elevator, she wonders again what Jon finds so attractive here to stay, instead of following his own blood.

She finds Jon at the edge of the wall, watching the horizon through a spyglass. "What are you looking for? Your dark future?" She softly asks.

"Everything seems to be calm down there." He simply answers, not picking up her last comment. "What are you doing up here?"

"I wanted to talk to you... Alone... I mean really alone this time."

"And with nowhere for me to escape, huh?" He smiles.

"At least, with less chances to, yes." She smiles back. "I've got a council today and we decided it was time for us to march back North."

"Oh!" He pauses. "But, I though Stannis wanted to re-populate the Castles along the Wall?"

"That is still his intention. But in the meantime, we want to make sure that all our Northern Lords will be ready to raise their banners for him when he will be ready." She bends to look through the spyglass. "Awh, I can nearly touch the trees." She exclaims, shooting out her arm trying to catch them.

"It's magic!" Jon jests.

"Impressive, I was about to say." She stands up straight again, her face serious. "So, we will start to pack tomorrow. I hope to be ready in less than a week. I'll ask some of my men to hunt the woods and net-fishing the rivers around to pay the Night's-Watch back some of its generosity. And we will leave you all the gears we won't have need for."

"Very well. If you need any help, let me know and I'll designate some of my Brothers." He gazes at the ground. "Did you find a new Lord of Winterfell?" He asks as neutral as possible.

"Could be..." She intentionally leaves the rest of her sentence in abeyance, staring at Jon's face.

"Good." He whispers, looking through the spyglass again.

"This is not your land, Jon. There is no Wildling blood running through your veins." Ylliria softly says.

"It is my duty."

"Your duty is towards your father Eddard Stark. Your duty is to fulfill your brother's last wish. Your duty is the North!"

He rises up to face her again. "I failed, Ylliria. I know that and I will repent for the rest of my life." He shouts out. "I should have taken the decision to leave a long time ago... Now, it's too late."

"It's never too late. We still can..."

"Hush!" He briskly cuts her. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" She carefully listens around.

They both hear a howling coming from down the Wall. They approach the edge and look down.

"Ghost?" Jon whispers as he sees a white animal pacing along the ice barrier.

"There are two of them?" Ylliria exclaims, pointing at a darker moving spot. "A gray one? That can't be..."

Jon grabs her hand and drags her to the elevator. "Now I need to get to the bottom of this. It's the same Direwolf that helped me to flee from the Wildlings."

"You think that some other Direwolves might live in those woods?"

"No, I think we both know who that animal is. And Ghost would never stay will others than its own brothers and sisters."

Ylliria frowns. "Besides Gray-Wind, the other Gray one was Summer." Her face suddenly lightens up. "That would mean that..."

"I know." Jon smiles, sliding the door open and pulling her inside.

A few minutes later, they run through the ice tunnel to meet with the Direwolves.

.


	110. Chapter 110

Chapter 110: Going to the Rescue.

As soon as Jon opens the Iron Gate, Ghost nearly knocks him over, muzzling its nose in his neck. "Easy man! Yes, I'm happy to see you too." He starts to scratch it between his ears and gently pushing him off his chest.

The other Direwolf stays behind, like hesitating to enter the tunnel. "Summer?" Ylliria softly calls, kneeling in front of the animal and stretching her arm towards it. "Come, don't be afraid. You remember us, do you?" She gently says when finally it makes a first step forward. "Are you alone here?" It makes a second one. "Do you know where Bran and Rickon are?" And another one. "You came here to look for help, isn't it?"

It's finally Ghost that pushes his brother to close the gap that still separate it from Ylliria. She gently approaches her hand, letting it smell it before softly petting him on the head. "You can trust me, Summer. You are in good hands now." The Direwolf finally gives in and strokes its head against her chin. "There. You recognize me, do you?" It finally makes an approved moan. "Bran and Rickon are still alive. We need to look for them." She turns towards Jon. "Summer and Ghost will lead us to where they are."

"I know. I already thought about that. But, those Direwolves won't follow any other than us, I fear."

"Well, let's go then!" She rushes him, starting to march back in the tunnel. "What are you waiting for?" She calls, as she turns around and sees Jon still standing at the gate, Ghost sitting at his feet.

"Ylliria, they won't let us go."

"Who?"

"The King and his Red Priestess." Jon sadly answers.

"I would like to see that happen! No one will keep me from getting out there and find Bran and Rickon!" She flings. "I owe that much to Robb and Catelyn. Those boys don't have any other parent left but Arya and me."

"And me." He whispers.

She does not comment to that and continues her way to the Castle.

"Wait! What are you going to do?" He runs to catch up with her.

"I'm going to take my horse, dress in my warmest clothes and go behind that damned Wall to get the little ones back. And that, with or without you!"

"What makes you think that I won't go with you?" He grabs her arm to stop her.

"I don't know. Maybe the last few conversations we had." She narrows her eyes in a slit. "Will you need a precedent for this too?" She wryly says.

"That's unfair, Ylliria." He lets go of her, hurt by her words.

"Well, that is how I feel." She holds up the tears that are slowly forming in her eyes. "Mance wanted me to talk with you and open my heart to you. But you are so obtuse, so caught in your absolute certainties..." She takes a deep breath. "For crying out loud, can't you see it, Jon? Can't you see me struggling? I love you, from every fiber of my soul and in every drop that runs in my blood. And that since forever. When you left for the Wall, I though a part of me was ripped off. It took me a while to overcome your departure and accept the fact that I might never see you again. I thought I could go over you and I had some sort of respite when I felt in love with Robb. But, when he was murdered... Oh by the Gods!" She lets her back drop against the icy wall. "The only things that kept me alive was thinking of you and the hope I could rejoin you here. And I don't care if this bothers you or if you don't give a damn, but I can't see living the rest of my life without you!" She looks away to hide her crying eyes.

"Ylliria, I'm so sorry. You're right, I am obtuse and blind and stupid. You can call me all the names you want, you're right on all of them." He takes her in his arms, trying to comfort her. "I didn't realize how much you were suffering because of me. I was putting your sadness on the count of Robb's death. Oh, will you ever forgive me." He gently rocks her. "Please, say something." He cups her face between his hands. "Or hit me if you prefer." He tries to make her smile.

She gently pushes him away. "I apologize for what I said about the precedent. It was mean of me." She slowly moves away from the cold wall. "I definitively know now that you don't share the same feelings about me. I won't bother you again with this. I said it and that is a relief in itself."

"Ylliria." Jon whispers, gently grabbing her arm.

"Let us get ready to go get Bran and Rickon." She calmly states, getting rid of his grip and continuing her way in the tunnel, Summer padding next to her.

Ghost looks at Jon, its head tilted on the side, like it wants to tell him off. "I know what you are thinking." Jon tells it. "I'm the stupidest man on this part of the earth and you are two steps away to rip out my throat." He scratches the Direwolf between the ears again. "But, telling her that my love for her is as strong has hers would just make her suffer all the more. I can't do that." He sadly shakes his head.

.

Ylliria rejoins Arya and after explaining her how they found Summer and Ghost, she asks her to take care of the Direwolf for a moment.

"Where are you going?" The young girl stutters, still trying to process what she just heard.

"I need to see uncle Mance." She quickly answers. "You have to promise me not to tell a word of all this to anybody... Not even to Wylis, you hear me?"

"But, why?"

"Because nor Stannis nor even Wylis won't let us go beyond the Wall, just the two of us. And the Direwolves won't follow anyone else. We need to do this in secret if we will have a chance to find them back alive."

"I understand. So, I suppose there is no use for me to ask to come with you."

"No there is not, Sweetling." She starts to feel that she won't be able to hold her crying any longer. "I have to go, Sweetling. I'll see you later." She gently kisses Arya's forehead and leaves.

She lightly nods when the Guard leads her towards the long corridor to Mance's cell.

"Ylliria, Sweetling. What a soothing surprise." Her uncle calls out when he sees her standing in front of the iron door.

The Guard opens it without a word and after a polite bow; he withdraws to the other side of the hall.

Ylliria runs into Mance's arms and starts to cry on his shoulder.

"Oh! What's wrong, my dearest? Did the King refuse my pardon? I feared that it would happen, you know."

"No, that's not it." She sobs. "It's Jon... I told him... I told him everything."

"And?"

"I felt a sort of relieve first, but now... It hurts... It hurts so much, Uncle." She hugs him a little tighter. "Am I so cursed that love and happiness are for me forbidden? Is this the price to pay to live your life in total freedom?"

"You're not cursed, Sweetling. But, I could certainly cursed Jon right now! What a fool of a man! He has the possibility to live a true love and be raised to a Lord... What is wrong with him?"

Her Uncle's comment suddenly makes Ylliria laugh.

"Come, let's sit down and have a drink. They brought me a jar of wine this morning. At my great surprise."

"Your conditions of detention have been lighten up since you signed the Peace Treaty."

"Oh, so there is hope."

"Aye there is, Uncle." She cracks a half-smile. "I will have to leave the Castle for a few days, but it must stay secret."

"What do you have in your mind?" He frowns.

She tells him all about Bran and Rickon's possible retrieval.

"Hum... I see." He lifts his gaze. "But, be careful, all right? No daring acts or inconsiderate moves!" He warns her. "I'm just starting to know you. I don't want to lose you already."

"I promise, Uncle. I'll be extra careful." She takes a sip of her cup. "May I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"You still didn't tell me how you arrived at the Wall and how you became a King-beyond-that-Wall?"

He softly chortles. "It was more in order to protect you than saving my own ass. If you pardon my French." He chortles. "I was so eager to confront and kill Tywin while Eddard proposed me to stay in Winterfell with him and raise you as my daughter." He sighs. "I would have, though, if I didn't play stupid."

"What did you do?"

"I heard a rumor that in the Inn of one of the nearby villages, a man was bragging about the plunder of a Castle and how he enjoyed hunting with the Mountain-that-Rides. I saw red, took my horse and rushes to that Inn, without taking a minute to think. I found the lad and directly slit his throat, before he could tell me who he was and that he had nothing to do with Garrymount. He was the only son of a knight, a good friend of Tywin's. He was telling the story he heard from another man to get the Innkeeper's daughter in his bed. The knight warned the local sheriff and they accused me of murder. Edd told me that the only way to avoid the hanging was to take the Black. He persuades me to take that option to keep you safe and still with an honor. He promised me he would take care of you and give you the happy life you deserved." Mance takes Ylliria's hand and gently presses it. "I arrived here with two other criminals and pronounced my vows. It was a though living, but I liked it. I was quickly named Ranger and could scout out on the other side. And it's there I discover the Wildling's way of life and liked it even better. Freedom, aye, it comes with a bill due, I know." He shakes his head at the memories. "I followed my heart and one day, never came back to the Castle. I was sure they would think that I died in the forest and never look for me. Little by little, I made myself a name among the Wildlings and started to understand their fears, their concerns and I found unjust how the Realm was treating them; only because they had another way to live their lives, in total freedom. I wanted to change that, start to train them to raise an Army. It was never my intention to massacre the Brothers of the Night's-Watch, just to settle my new people safe on this side, away from all the creatures and the monsters."

"Why did you never try to parley with the Lord Commander?" She softly asks.

"Oh, I tried in the beginning. But, as soon as they recognized me, they tried to capture me and behead me for desertion. That is the only thing they were after."

"From what Jon told me about Mormont, he didn't appear to be such a stubborn man."

"Oh yes, he was. Follow the rules, don't take part of any conflict and go only by the books."

"Now I know where Jon gets his obtuse side from." She lightly chuckles. "He has put that man on an all-time hero pedestal."

"Ylliria, my dear niece, be very careful out there, all right? There are some dark things running around."

"I know, Uncle. I will. And I'm not going alone."

"How many men will you take with you? Are they seasoned soldiers?"

"Hum…Only one actually. It will be just Jon, me and the Direwolves." She whispers. "And to be alone with Jon is frightening me more than what I could face behind that Wall."

"Well it could also be a good thing. And my advice to you, focus on your target, My Sweet. That helps."

She stands up. "I'll better go for now. I have to prepare. I'd like to leave as soon as possible."

Mance crushes her hard against him. "The Old Gods be with you, My Sweet. And come back to me safe and sound."

"I will, Uncle. And thank you for the story."

.

In the middle of the night, Jon and Ylliria silently lead their horses through the ice tunnel. Their animals are heavily loaded with gear, so they decide to walk as far as possible before mounting them and staying close to the Wall to avoid the watch to spot them. The Direwolves are paddling a few steps ahead, not to frighten the horses. When they are certain to be out of sight, they cut through the middle ground and enter the Northern woods.

"We're lucky that Stannis didn't garrison the other Castles yet. It's going to be an unseen ride till Shadow Tower." Jon softly says, trying to cut the heavy silence between them. "We just need to pay attention on the patrols that sometimes make sorties."

"The King will send men out as soon as they will discover our disappearance."

"Maybe… Maybe not." He comments, happy that she speaks to him again. "I'm wiping off our trail since we left Castle Black. That should slow them down a bit."

"Good thinking, Lord Commander." She cynically flings, tapping on the side of her horse to put some distance between them.

"Ouh, that doesn't sounded much as victory, my friend. You'll still have a long way to go before she'll forgive you." He whispers for himself.

.


	111. Chapter 111

Chapter 111: The Vastness of the Silence.

In the early morning, Lord Davos wakes up Stannis, advising him of the Lady Ylliria and the new Lord Commander Jon Snow's disappearance.

"What? How is that possible?" The King briskly pushes his Hand aside, getting out of bed. "And where are the others? Is Mance still in jail?"

"That is what is so awkward, Your Grace. Only the Lady and Lord Snow are missing. And two horses as well."

"Hum..." Stannis scratches his chin. "They never would have left their family without a solid reason. Where could they have fled? And what could have make them leave so quickly without warning?"

"I've already send men out to scout on King's Landing Road and around."

"It's beyond the Wall our men need to scout, you idiot!" The King flings.

"Beyond the Wall?" Davos repeats, incredulous. "I will send men at once, Your Grace." He quickly says when Stannis scowls at him. He bows and withdraws from the room.

The King follows him in the hallway. "And fetch me the Lady Arya and Snow's chubby friend, whatever his name is!" He barks.

"Yes, Your Grace." Lord Seaworth makes a stop in the stairs to bow again before buzzing off.

"What's the matter?" Melisandre's sultry voice asks, coming out of the bedroom.

"Two persons have escaped during the night."

"Ylliria and Jon isn't it?" She snuggles up to him.

"Why just now?" He leads her back to the room.

"Your Grace?" Davos calls. "The Lady Arya and Samuel Tarly are here."

"Enter!" The King commands, closing the door himself behind them.

"Your Grace." Arya and Sam voice at the same time, curtseying and bowing.

"Where did they go?" He questions without a foreword.

"Who, Your Grace?" Arya asks as innocently as possible.

"Keep your insolence for your own people, little girl! You know damn well who!" He roars.

"Honestly, Your Grace, I don't know where Ylliria went. I woke up this morning alone in my room. Maybe, she went at the infirmary or in the Library. Those are her favorite places around here." She shrugs and smirks.

Stannis hovers over Sam, pacing around him, his arms behind his back. "And where are your Lord Commander's favorite places?"

"Our Lord Commander often likes to go beyond the Wall without advising anyone, Your Grace. He appreciates the silence and the loneliness of the area." He shyly replies, swallowing hard. "But, I'm sure he will be back soon."

"Enter!" The King yells as he hears soft knocks on the door. Davos whispers something in his hear. "Is that so? Hum... You may dismiss." He gestures with his hands toward Arya and Sam. "My faithful Hand, choose four of our best men and four of the Sworn Brothers. Make them ride along the Wall and at the border of the woods towards Shadow Tower."

"My King." Melisandre softly cuts him. "Don't send men after them. Let them do what they have to do. I'm sure they will find the two little Starks and return here."

"They've run away without my consent, Melisandre! I cannot let this unpunished. What kind of King lets people flee without taking any actions? It's an open door for anarchy!"

"My King, I assure you there is a great chance Jon Snow changes his mind and accepts his role of Lord of Winterfell when they return." She seductively says, quickly looking at Davos and then back to Stannis.

"You saw it?" He gazes in her fiery eyes.

She nods.

"All right. Stop searching for them." The King tells his Hand, briskly dismissing him.

Melisandre surrounds Stannis' neck with her arms. "Never underestimate the power of a woman in love, My beloved King." She softly kisses him at the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, Melisandre... My sweet and impassioned Red Priestess." He grabs her closer to him. "I'll make you a Queen very soon." He whispers before kissing her deeply and dragging her to the bed.

_._

"We will stop here and get some food. The horses need some rest too." Jon says, dismounting. "I'll fetch some wood for a fire. Go inside that cavern over there, you'll be shielded from the cold till I come back." He tells Ylliria, pointing at the shelter he spotted from afar.

Without a word or a look, she unloads a part of their equipment, brings it in the cave and starts to ruffle in the bags.

Jon heavily sighs, shaking his head in disbelieve. He grabs his ax and goes for the woods, Ghost paddling next to him.

"Summer, to me." She gently orders the other Direwolf as soon as he is out of sight. "You're hungry? You want some dry beef?" She cuddles it. The animal looks outside. "Oh, you prefer finding your sustenance yourself, huh? All right, up you go." She lets it free. "But, not too far! We won't stay here for long." She calls before it starts to run away.

A moment later, Jon comes back, carrying enough dry branches for a good fire. He cuts them in smaller portions with his knee and puts them in a pile. He ruffles in his inner pocket to find his flint and steel and some tinder; and lights it up. "This will warm us up in a minute. What's for lunch?" He tries to jest.

Ylliria puts the little cooking pot filled with snow, beans and pieces of dry meat onto the flames. And still without a word, she hands him a plate with a slice of bread and a spoon. He grabs the wineskin and pours two cups. He puts down one of them in front of her, searching for her gaze to give her a smile. But, she makes a step aside and starts to mix the food in the pot with her own spoon. They eat in silence, each in their own thoughts.

After having clean up, they carry on their journey in the same muteness.

The sun quickly dives in the West and Jon decides to make another stop for the night. "I'll set up the tent. Would you please take care of the fire while I do that, Ylliria?" He gently asks.

As she returns her arms full of wood, she freezes. "And where is my tent?" She asks, dropping her load at Jon's feet.

"Your tent? Well, there it is?" He points at the shelter he just finishes putting up.

"Then, where is yours?"

"Ylliria, we only brought one tent. And you know that."

"I will not sleep with you in there!" She scowls at him.

"Well that's too bad! And you'll have to get use to it because that's the way it's gonna be!" He angrily retorts. "It's too cold and way too dangerous out here to sleep alone. But don't you worry, Lady Prudish, we'll sleep in our clothes and with enough hides to save touching." He briskly turns around and continues to prepare their camp, making sure she does not have a chance to riposte.

.

"At least you've stopped the silent treatment on me." Jon says when they finished supper, sitting around their campfire.

"I was not giving you a silent treatment." Ylliria shrugs. "I just didn't want to be a burden during this journey. I know how dangerous this place is and wanted you fully focused on our safety." She continues with irony.

"Yeah, right." He softly chuckles.

She heavily sighs. "You want to make conversation? All right, let's have a conversation. What do you want to talk about, huh?" She stares at him.

"I want to talk about what you said to me in the ice tunnel, when we met with the Direwolves." He gazes in the flames. "You still didn't let me have a chance to explain my side of it."

"Because you have a side? There is nothing more to discuss about it. All is crystal clear to me."

"Damned, Ylliria! You can be such a quick-tempered of a woman sometimes!" He flings.

"I'm sorry." She apologizes, suddenly remembering what she promised to her Uncle.

"By the old Gods, will you let me speak out without cutting me off? Because, I'm not sure I will find the courage to say this out loud again at another time."

She nods, her gaze softening.

"Ylliria, whatever you might think, I do have feelings for you. And more than I allow myself to have." He takes a deep breath. "I never stopped thinking about you since I arrived at the Wall. Sometimes, I even dreamt on what would have been our lives if the circumstances were different." He chuckles. "You already know how I feel about being a bastard and why I'm not willing to father children because of that."

"I don't care about your condition..."

He raises a hand to stop her. "Now, it's even more difficult for me to picture you as the woman I could love or make love to for the rest of my life. You are my brother's widow!" He finishes his sentence in a whisper.

"And?" She softly comes, pausing a moment to see if she might continue. "Look at the Lady Catelyn. She was betrothed to Brandon Stark. But when he died, who did she marry?"

"His brother." Jon states the obvious.

"Aye, your father. What is so difference about us?"

"You and Robb were married." He softly says, pocking with a stick in the fire.

"Oh, I see. I'm not pure enough for you, huh?" She feels the anger slowly rising in her again.

"That is not what I meant!"

"And what about that Wildling woman? Was she a virgin when you bedded her? Because, if I may believe my Uncle's tales, it seems that the Free Folk does not have those kinds of considerations. A free woman can have any free man she fancies with no questions asked or her reputation sullied." She stands up to tower over him.

"It has nothing to do with purity. It's about the respect and honor I bear for you and for my deceased brother!" He jumps up too to face her.

"So, if I understand this correctly, in your eyes, I should never remarry, never love anyone again. Maybe I could rejoin the Sister of the Health God? Would that please you, Lord Commander Snow? Because that would be very simple to do too, since Mother Superior Clarise is a very dear friends of mine. See how easy it is to get rid of me."

"Enough, Ylliria!" He looks her in the eyes, fighting the urge to kiss her. Instead, he throws the stick and walks away; Ghost following him.

Summer approaches and sits next to Ylliria. "I shouldn't have said all that, huh? Yeah, you're right on that. Me and my stupid temper! When will I learn from my previous mistakes?" She tells herself off. "Do you think he will accept my apologies?" She surrounds it with her arm. "Now, probably not." She buries her face in its warm fur.

Jon wonders around their camp till he is sure that Ylliria is fast asleep before crawling in the tent next to her. He still feels angry, but can't determine if he is still mad at her or just at himself. He stares the ceiling of their fragile shelter, listening to the howling of the wind and her soft breathing. He finally closes his eyes.

.

The next morning, Ylliria is already preparing their breakfast when he wakes up. "I made us some thick soup. That will keep us going for a while." She gently smiles at him.

He clears his throat. "Thank you." He accepts the plate and sits in front of her.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Not much. We should arrive near Shadow Tower by the end of this afternoon." He changes the subject.

"You seemed to know for certain that the Direwolves are leading us there."

"The direction make me think so, aye."

"Jon, I think I owe you the biggest apology ever." She softly says. "The things I've said yesterday..."

"It's all right, Ylliria." He stands up. "We need to move forward. There are signs of a snow storm coming our way. I'd like to reach the other side of these hills before it starts. We will find some good shelters in the valley between them." He goes checking on the horses without another look to her.

"I can't blame him. I hurt him badly. And now it's payback time." She whispers.

_._


	112. Chapter 112

**WARNING: Hot scene in this Chapter! ;-)**

Chapter 112: Reconciliation beyond the Wall.

By the end of the morning, the wind starts to blow stronger and the fog deepens, making the sensation of coldness much more intense. Jon decides to stay in the woods and find some shelter amongst the trees as long as possible before climbing the first hill, leading their horses by the reins.

"Mind your steps now, Ylliria. Be very careful. Some spots might be tricky " He screams above the whistling of the wind.

She nods as reply, letting the bridle of her horse to pull her scarf a little higher over her face when suddenly there is a cracking noise and she vanishes from the path, falling head over heels down the slope, disappearing in the thick layer of snow.

"YLLIRIA!" Jon yells, rushing after her and trying to locate traces of her fall. "YLLIRIA! WHERE ARE YOU?" He slightly panics. "No, no, no, no..." He starts to dig the snow at random with his gloved hands. "YLLIRIA! ANSWER ME, PLEASE!" He looks all around him and finally sees Ghost pointing his nose at a certain spot a few steps away. He runs toward it. "That's my boy." He pets him quickly before grabbing a piece of black cloak that sticks up. He pulls her out the heap of snow she was buried in. "Ylliria?" He worriedly calls, removing the snow from her face. He bends down, putting an ear on her chest to check her breathing. "Come on. Wake up." He shakes her, lightly opening the collar of her gown. "Don't do this to me." He softly taps on her cheeks. Finally, she starts to cough and her eyes flicker open. "Oh, the Gods be thanked."

"What happened?" She whispers.

"The border of the path collapsed under you and you slid down." He starts to palpate all over her body to check for broken members.

"I'm fine, Jon. More shaken than hurt, I guess." She smiles to reassure him.

"You're sure?" He takes her head between his hands. "I was so damned angry at you, but when I saw you falling down." He pauses. "It was like my heart sank with you."

"Oh Jon, it's all right now." She hushes him, gently stroking his face with her gloved hand.

"No, it's not. This was a warning that I might loose you any time. And I don't want..." He looks deep in her eyes and unexpectedly kisses her.

After a moment of surprise, Ylliria finally swings her arms around him and they deepen their embrace. They break up only to breath and that make them burst into laughter, Ghost tilting his head on the side, like not understanding what just happen.

"Before we both freeze to death and loose all the daylight, we should seek for a way up that path again and find a place to settle our camp for the night." Jon carefully helps her to get back on her feet. "Sure nothing is broken."

"Certain." She starts to wiggle her arms and legs to prove him.

They are climbing up, hanging on tree branches that are growing irregularly on the side of the hill. Once back on top, they find Summer, sitting in between the two horses, all calmly waiting.

.

Arrived in the small encased valley, they find an ideal stop to raise their tent away from the snow storm that has intensified. "We need to finish this fast and get warm!" Jon yells above the wind.

"What about the horses and the Direwolves?" Ylliria screams.

"They are use to this. They'll find a good shelter. Don't worry." He hammers in the last stake and shakes at the ropes to make sure they'll hold.

Jon grabs her hand and pushes her in the tent. They let themselves fall on the hides out of breath.

"You are really stronger than I though." He smiles, getting rid of his heavy cloak.

"Why does everyone see me as a fragile or weak little doll?" She pulls off her gloves, her long scarf and put them aside.

"It's your slim figure that makes people think that."

"Oh so, I have a slim figure, huh?" Ylliria jests.

"A beautiful and irresistible slim figure. With all the good curves in the right places." He boldly says, leaning on one of his elbow and gently caressing her cheek with his other hand.

She slightly blushes and lets her gaze fall down.

"What is it?" He asks her, worried that he might have been too hasty.

"I suddenly feel so shy and even a little bit scared." She softly chortles.

"I though that this is what you were waiting for?"

"Yeah, I know. Isn't that stupid?" She laughs. "Maybe because I started to lose hope. You were so sure of your choices." She lifts her gaze towards him.

"Or maybe you still have some uncertainties." He looks at his fingers stroking the furs under them.

"Uncertainties? I don't think so. I already told you, my love for Robb was... is different from what I feel for you." She whispers, trying to keep some tears at bay.

He gets on his knees to face her and lifts her chin to gently kiss her lips. He slightly moves back to look at her, like to ask for permission. She answers by closing the gap between them and puts her mouth on his again. He runs his fingers along her back and to her neck; delicately untying the small ribbon that holds the two braid behind her head, her free hair cascading down and around her shoulders, both his hands grasping around her head.

"Are you really sure this is what you want?" She murmurs against his mouth.

"Please, Ylliria, don't speak another word. I don't want my mind to take over again." He says before deepening his embrace. His kiss is demanding, his tongue and lips coaxing hers like it is their last day on earth.

She moans and her tongue tentatively meets his. Her heartbeat begins to accelerate in her chest and she can fell her blood pumping harder through her veins. "What am I afraid of? That it might stop or that it is finally happening?" She asks to herself one last time.

Jon dives into her eyes again, taking back his breath. She starts to unlace her brown gown, not breaking their gaze. He lifts his shirt over his head. He places feather-like kisses across her jaw, her chin and the corners of her mouth while slowly peeling her off the dress. He softly caresses her shoulders, shyly going down to her breast. At the first touch, the muscles deep inside of her are suddenly clenching deliciously, making her moan and she closes her eyes. He kisses her again, his lips more demanding. He tightens his arms around her and hauls her against his body, one hand going back in her hair while the other travels down her spine to her waist and down to her behind. He holds her tight against his hips and she feels his erection, which he languidly pushes into her. She wants him badly, so badly, gripping his upper arms, feeling his tense biceps. He's surprisingly stronger and more muscular than she thought.

He gently pushes her down towards the multiple layers of pelts spread over the tent's floor. He trails kisses down her neck, her breast and her belly, making her skin burning from the inside. She is clawing at the furs beneath her, trying to keep away the too-much-sensations-at-once tears to fall. "How can it feel so different and so much similar at the same time?" She questions herself, moving her hands into his hair and pulling at them gently.

He crawls back up, his hands caressing where his mouth was a few seconds before, looking deep into her eyes again. "I'm done with over-thinking this, I swear. I won't loose you a second time." His gaze seems to say and he locks his mouth to his again. She snakes her hands down to his waist. She wants to untie his pants, but he grabs her wrist and lifts her arm above her head. She tilts her head on the side, wordlessly questioning him. His expression is unreadable for a short moment, but with another deep kiss and a soft trust of his hips against hers, he washes her last confusion away. Jon goes on his knees again to pull off his pants. His erection suddenly springs free, making her pant in expectation. Ylliria suppresses a growl by biting her bottom lip.

He slowly moves between her legs, spreading them gently farther apart. "Oh the Old Gods forgive me, but I wanted you for so long, Ylliria." He whispers as he first enters her.

"Let us burn together in the Seven Hells then." She breathes in his ear, surrounding his hips with her legs. He pulls one of her knee up higher and starts to move slowly, easing himself in and out of her, her lower body moving to meet his.

She softly moans and he pounds on, picking up speed in a relentless rhythm and she meets every one of his trusts. He grasps her head between his hands and kisses her hard, their tongue eagerly playing with each other. She starts to stiffen as he continues to thrust on and on, making her body quiver and bowing. She suddenly cries out Jon's name when she explodes around him in a nearly unbearable climax.

He continues to kiss her, absorbing the cries of her orgasm. Then, his mouth opens slightly and his breathing turns harsher. He puts his weight to his hands on either side of her head and groans heavily as he comes too, whispering out her name with a last thrust and then stilling as he empties himself into her while Ylliria, still panting, tries to slow down her breathing and her thumping heart. His forehead is pressing against hers, his eyes closed and his breathing ragged. He finally let himself fall on his back, pulling her with him. She snuggles in his arms, a sheen of sweat covering their bodies. He grabs a large bearskin and covers them with it.

She doesn't dare to voice a word yet, a bit worried of what his reaction might be. She lifts her head and dives in his gaze again. He tucks a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, his hand gliding slowly down her backside to her thigh and up again, stroking her gently. "Now, I have broken all my vows and crossed all the limits I've ever set for myself." He suddenly voices. "But still, I never felt so happy in my entire life."

"That is because you finally let your heart speak." She gently smiles, pointing a finger on his chest.

"What are we going to do, Ylliria?" He sighs.

"What do you mean?"

"About this, about us?"

"I thought..." She blinks at him. "I thought you had change your mind. That you would..." She pushes him away, going up. "I am not one of those Free Wildling woman, Jon! You can't toy with me like this!" She raises her voice.

He jumps on his feet too. "No, no, you misunderstood me." He surrounds her face with his hands. "I was wondering if it was not too late to back out. I rejected Stannis' proposal and accepted the role of Lord Commander. Are you still willing me as a Lord of Winterfell now that we're about to retrieve Bran and Rickon? And you have your Uncle too?"

"Oh, Jon." She snuggles into his arms. "Nothing has changed. I always wanted you and anyone else."

"You really must have taken me for a mad man when I took all those contradictory decisions, huh?"

"I honestly couldn't figure out what you were up to, for sure." She smiles. "But then, I simply told myself that you were not sharing the same feelings." She shrugs.

"Ylliria, the only true feelings I ever felt for a woman where the ones I'm feeling for you. But, you were like inaccessible, like forbidden. You know how I think about myself."

"And the Wildling woman?" She softly asks.

"I am ashamed to confess it, but she reminded me of you." He whispers.

"And how do you feel about yourself now?"

"I'm not saying I'm totally cured yet." He lightly laughs. "But, I'm now sure of one thing. I don't want to lose you anymore." He trails little kisses around her ear and down her neck.

She gently pushes him to lay down again and snuggles in his arms. "We'll get through all this together now." She toys with his chest hair.

They close their eyes and soon fall into a deep, blissful sleep.

.


	113. Chapter 113

Chapter 113: Unexpected Passage to the other side.

When Ylliria wakes up the next morning, the storm seems to have calmed down. She stares at Jon still asleep next to her. "He looks so glorious with his tousled hair and his soft snoring. He seems peaceful and so what younger too." She grins, softly kissing him at the corner of his lips. He lightly moans and turns around, grabbing one of the pelts towards him. "What a childish move! Not very Lord Commander if you ask me." She suppresses a giggle by putting a hand before her mouth. She lays down again, giving free play to that delicious soreness and that sort of blissfulness she feels running through her body and that makes her smile even more. She lazily stretches out under the hides, remembering the undreamed passed night before as silently as possible, finally starting to dress to prepare some breakfast.

She crawls out of the tent, the two Direwolves paddling towards her. "Hush, Jon is still asleep." She whispers to them and starts to pick up some dry branches for the campfire.

She quickly lights it up and walks back to the woods with the cooking pot to shovel up some untouched snow to make hot water. Summer suddenly starts to growl. "What is it? What did you see?" She asks the animal, worriedly looking around. In the early morning dim light any tree trunk looks frightening.

She hurries on and runs back toward their camp; giving some quick looks above her shoulder to be sure no one or nothing is following her. She prevents the urge to cry out to wake up Jon. "Maybe this is only my wild imagination. Summer might just have reacted to an prey or another animal." But the Direwolf is still marching in circles around her, its ears pricked up and baring its teeth.

Suddenly, leaping from behind a white-tree, a strange man is blocking her way. He stretches out his arms, showing her his shredded stumps and clumsily makes a step forward. She lets out a huge scream of terror when she notices his icy blue eyes and its gray skin. Summer jumps on the White-walker as Jon rushes half naked out of the tent, holding his longsword. He rushes towards them, followed by Ghost that shots out of nowhere. In just one swift movement, Jon chops the monster's head off while his animal drags it further away. "Get a burning stick from the fire and bring it to me!" He orders. "YLLIRIA, DO IT NOW!" He yells as he sees her petrified on the floor.

She slowly moves away while he continues to point Longclaw at the man's body.

"Give it to me and get some long branches of dry wood." He asks her more calmly when she returns, holding the torch.

She can't stop staring at the still crawling body lying in the snow. "He's still alive? How can that be?"

"We have to burn it. It's the only way to kill it." He explains with a calmer tone.

"Do you know who he is? Is it someone from the Night's Watch you think?"

"No, I don't recognize him... And it's an 'it' not a 'he'. That is no human anymore."

"Apart the eye and skin color; he still looks more a man than a monster to me." She shivers.

"Are you all right? Did he touch you?"

"No, Summer got him before he could reach me."

He sighs in relieve she's unharmed. "Go get some wood now please." He lightly kisses her on the lips.

She nods and starts to wonder around.

"You should go back in the tent. I can finish this on my own." He gently caresses her face. "You don't need to see this through." He presses his forehead on hers. "Summer, you stay with her." He orders the animal before building up a hasty-made pyre.

.

"So, they really exist." Ylliria mumbles when Jon returns in the tent.

"Like many other things in those lands. This part of the realm is a very dreadful and dangerous place. That is why the Wall is so vital. Everybody should be aware of what wanders behind it. Without that icy barrier and the men to watch it, we're all borrowed-time-dead-meat." He explains.

"Once you'll be Lord of Winterfell, you'll be able to man and gear this wall properly."

He looks at her with his mouth wide open.

"What?" She quickly voices.

"Nothing, I just need some time to get around that idea." He gives her a reassuring smile, taking her in his arms.

"Should I already call you 'My Lord' to help you out? I'm sure you'll get used to it very quickly." She teases him.

"Only if you'd like me to call you 'My Wild Woman'." He jests back.

"That's not even slightly funny!" She tries to squirm out of his hold, making him laugh out loud. "How dare you calling me like one of those amoral creatures?"

"I can hear some fierce jealousy in your tone like a real Wildling woman does!" He continues, still laughing.

"You are the most impossible man I ever met!" She gives him light taps on his arms still tempting to get off his grip.

"I love you." He suddenly whispers in her ear, making her freeze in an instant.

He slowly bends down, lifting her chin and kisses her. She instantly puts her arms around him, her hands in his hair and opens her mouth to give free passage to his tongue. Their breathing starts to shorten, their bodies irreparably attracted to each other, waking up their desire.

"We should not... Not now..." She softly breaks their embrace. "Let's first go find the boys." She gives him a last chaste kiss and starts to fold the hides.

.

Mid-afternoon, the two Direwolves suddenly bifurcate, running out of the woods and towards the Wall. "From my estimations, on the other side must be Greyguard's Keep." Jon tells Ylliria.

"There is nothing here." She says, looking left, right and above. "It's only Wall, Wall and Wall."

"GHOST, TO ME!" He calls.

"How are we going to pass to the other side?"

"I don't know yet. Most of the passages of the abandoned keeps were blocked when the Night's-Watch left them." He hands Ylliria the reins of his horse and starts to march along the ice structure. "GHOST? SUMMER? WHERE ARE YOU?" He yells again.

"Jon!" She points at a dark shape a little bit further away. Summer yelps and disappears again.

As they arrive at the spot, they discover the small entrance of a tunnel under the Wall, hidden behind a mound of hard ice and snow; from afar it was impossible to see it. Jon goes on his knees and looks inside. "It's not very broad and I can't see any light coming from the other side; must be deep. We will have to crawl along and see where it leads." He says, going back on his feet.

"What about our horses?" Ylliria asks.

"We have two options. I follow Summer in that tunnel while you and Ghost are continuing along the Wall towards Shadow Tower. There is a large passage there to the other side and you can rejoin me at Greyguard's Keep." He starts to look around. "Or we try to find a safe place to set camp in the woods and protect the horses as best we can."

"I'm not staying alone on this side of the Wall, Jon. Not after this morning monstrous encountering." She shivers at the memory of the White-walker.

"That's what I thought too. Let's find a good shelter for our mounts." He smiles, giving her a reassuring hug.

"Thank you." She whispers.

.

"I am going to tie this end around your waist." He shows her a long rope. "You'll crawl after Summer in the tunnel. If you face any problems, give three small tugs on it and I will pull you out. Once you're on the other side, start to roll it back towards you. That will give me a sign you're safe and that I can go in there. Ghost will bring up the rear."

"All right."

"Ready?"

She nods and gives Jon a light kiss on his lips.

"I needed to say it. What I said in the tent." He suddenly mouths. "I did all I could to hide my feelings all these years, thinking it was the best thing for both of us. But now, with all what happened… And certainly the dangers you faced the last two days... It make me realize that I don't want to lose you ever again." He surrounds her face with his hands.

"I'm glad you said it and I needed to hear it too." She whispers. "I was fearful you might still change your mind, even after last night." She smiles and kisses him again. "Let us do this and hopefully we'll go home soon. See you on the other side." She breaks their embrace and goes on in the front of the entrance.

Ylliria lets passage for Summer before entering herself in the small tunnel. The walls and the floor inside are cold and slippery. She has some problems to find the right pace without slipping flat on her belly. Luckily, the tunnel is straight and has only a gentle slope. Half-way, she makes a stop to catch her breath.

"Everything all right in there?" Jon's voice faintly calls.

"YES." She just yells back, starting to crawl again.

She finally arrives at the end of the tunnel and discovers a sort of cave within the Wall. She gets straight up and looks around. On the other side, Summer yelps. It sits at the edge of a flight of steps directly chucked out in the ice. "Summer, wait till Jon and Ghost are with us." She tells it, starting to rapidly pull the rope towards her.

A few moments later, Jon is with her in the odd icy room. Ylliria points at the stairs. He unsheathes his longsword and carefully starts to climb the stairs, silently asking her to wait. He finally makes her a sign to follow him. They arrive in a dark and humid room with walls made of stones this time. "We must be in the keep's underground." He whispers. Summer and Ghost continuing to leap up. The way seems to lead to the back of a hearth of one of the ground floor rooms.

"Summer, you're finally returned!" A young man's voice shouts out. "Did you find someone?"

"Bran." Ylliria whispers, ready to leap towards the voice.

Jon grabs her arm to stop her, making her understand he will go out first.

"Jon!" Bran yells. "Look you guys, he came! I knew it!" His happy screams making Hodor and Osha come out of the dark corner they were hiding. Summer jumps on his brother Shaggydog, playfully biting his ears.

Jon turns around and stretches out his hand to help Ylliria to enter the room.

"Oh, by all the good Gods." She rushes towards Bran and crushes him hard against her chest.

"Ylliria." He starts to sob in her arms. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"Hush my boy. I'm here and you're safe now." She fights the tears slowly forming in her eyes. She lifts her head to smile at Osha. "Thank you." She mouths.

The young woman nods for an answer.

"Where is Rickon?" Ylliria suddenly asks, gently pushing the boy away.

"He felt sick." Bran points at a corner of the room. "A few days ago. We don't know what to do. He's shaking and moaning. He didn't eat either."

She looks towards Jon, silently asking him to take over at Bran's side. She kneels in front of Rickon's straw mattress and starts to examine him. He is just skin and bones. It breaks her heart to see him so frail and defenseless.

"I gave him water to drink and fresh baths against the fever. There is luckily a spring running under us." Osha starts to explain. "I went to the woods to see if I could find some lime-tree or elderflower and make him some tea. But, I couldn't find any."

"You did well with what you had, Osha." Ylliria tries to give her a smile. "We need to go back to Castle Black as soon as possible."

"Hodor!" The big man sadly says behind her.

"It's so good to see you all." She gently taps him on the shoulder.

"We didn't dare to walk to that Black Crow Castle as we knew the Wildlings were constantly attacking it. They passed through here several times too. But, this tower has a million hiding places. They never could find us." Osha continues.

"So much has happen to all of us, Osha. But, we'll have more time to tell our different journeys as soon as we're all back in a safer place. And that is Castle Black."

"We can't go back the way we came, Ylliria." Jon states. "Not with Rickon sick and Bran's condition. Even Hodor, I'm not sure he will be able to crawl in that tunnel."

"He can't. We already tried that." Bran confirms.

"What do you recommend?" Ylliria asks.

"I'll go back to the other side, take the horses, ride to Shadow Tower and order to make some more ready. I'm still Lord Commander for now, right?" He grins. "You'll have to come with me to bring back the food we've left." He tells Ylliria.

"You'll need my help." Osha stands in front of the hearth. "For My Lady safe keeping." She adds.

Jon nods and the three of them enter the passage again.

.


	114. Chapter 114

Chapter 114: Release

Two days later, Jon arrives back at Greyguard's Keep with a horse-carriage and the medicine Ylliria asked for.

Rickon is still unconscious from the fever, but it didn't worsen thanks to the constant cold baths the women gave him.

"I thought this would be a more suitable travel mean." Jon explains, showing the carriage. "The road on this side is more practicable. We shouldn't lose too much time with it."

"Good thinking, Lord Commander." Ylliria jests.

"Oh dear, I hate when you call me that." He smiles, wanting to take her in his arms.

She backs away, looking over her shoulder. "I still didn't tell Bran about us." She whispers. "I decided to wait till we could talk about it together with him." She lowers her gaze. "But, he knows for Robb and Catelyn, though."

"How did he take it?"

"He said something about a dream he made one day about it and pretended he already knew." She shrugs. "He worries me, Jon." She whispers, taking him in a corner of the room. "He seems so detached of things. He takes all the last events too lightly in my opinion, probably wanting to show us how strong he is, but..." She glimpses at the boy, sitting against the wall.

"He's a man grown now. Don't worry too much." He discretely strokes and squeezes her arm. "I'll talk to him."

"Aye, I think that is what he needs, a good man to man's talk." She gives him a poor smile.

"Start to prepare Rickon for the ride. I'd like to leave as soon as we can."

She nods and goes to warn Osha of their imminent departure.

.

During their travel back to Castle Black, Rickon finally wakes up. "Where am I?" He whispers.

"In safe hands, My Sweet Little One." Ylliria bends over him, smiling.

"Ylliria? Is that really you or am I dreaming still?"

"No, it's really me, My Love. And Jon is here too." She points at the front seat.

"What happened?" He tries to get up.

"You stay put, little man. You're still weak from the fever." She gently reprimands him. "Here, drink this potion. You'll feel better quickly." She holds the cup while he slowly swallows.

"Are we going back home, Ylliria?" He pleads.

"First we need to go get Arya at Castle Black and then we go home." She smiles.

"Arya? She's with you too? How come?"

"It's a very long story and we'll have now all the time in the world to tell you all about it because we'll stay together now." She removes locks of hair from his eyes. "Hum, you also need a haircut. You look like a wild child."

Rickon can't refrain the urge to take her in his arms.

"It's all right, My Sweetling. I won't go anywhere without you anymore." She softly rocks him.

.

As soon as Jon sets foot on the ground in Castle Black's yard, Lord Davos approaches and advises him that King Stannis wants to see him immediately.

"Will it be okay if I leave you with the boys?" He asks Ylliria.

"Yes, I decided to put them up in our quarters. And Osha and Hodor will find some place not too far away."

"Requisition all the rooms you need on my behalf. I'll see you as soon as I'm finish with Stannis."

"We'll need to get some food too. Will you have diner with us?" She discreetly squeezes his hand.

"Of course. Send Arya to the kitchens, she can take anything you need. Wish me luck. I fear Stannis will unleash the Seven Hells at me." He gently chuckles.

"You'll do all right, I'm sure. You're a Lord now and the King needs you."

"If I didn't know any better, I would kiss you right here and now."

"Well, lets hope your audience will leave you with some strengths." She winks, going to the other side of the carriage to help Hodor to put Bran on his back.

.

Jon takes a last deep breath before entering the King's room.

"Lord Commander, I thought you had abandoned us." Stannis sarcastically calls him.

Jon bows in front of the King. "Unfortunately, I didn't have the chance to advise you. It was an urgent matter that could not suffer any further delays, Your Grace." He clumsily apologizes. "And as you can see, I'm already returned."

"Was it the same urgent matter that made the Lady Stark accompany you?" The King invites him to sit down.

"Indeed, Your Grace. We can all be grateful to the Gods, Bran and Rickon Stark were found alive and unharmed."

"I see." Stannis scrutinizes him, his hands under his chin.

"Your Grace, I can assure you that there was no wrong intent what so ever or any idea to betray your."

"Lucky for you, I know that Lord Commander. My concern and questioning is on how will this event affect our plans. Should I consider the young Bran as the new Lord of Winterfell?"

Jon wiggles on his chair as it is suddenly becoming uncomfortable.

"Well, Lord Commander, what must I conclude with that prolonged silence of yours?" The King smirks.

Jon clears his throat. "With Your Grace's permission, I would like to have a few days to reconsider certain things."

"Reconsider certain things." Stannis slowly repeats, peeping at the bedroom's door where Melisandre hides, listening to their conversation. "I'm incline to grant you another delay, my Lord Commander. It is obvious that certain things in our future moves must be adapted, considering this unexpected and miraculous retrieval."

"Your Grace is very kind."

"And while you're at, why not including this news in those changes." He hands Jon a roll of paper. "A raven arrived with this yesterday."

"What? Tywin Lannister is dead, killed by his own son? I thought Tyrion was already on the run after he was suspected of poisoning his nephew Joffrey?" He comes stupefied.

"Maybe I should hire that Imp to do some of our dirty works." Stannis chuckles.

"But, Your Grace, this is changing everything!"

"Everything would be a tiny little bit too optimistic, Jon." The King rises from his chair and starts to pace around the room. "It would easy our parleys with the Northern Lords, that's for sure. But, for this I still need a Lord of Winterfell."

"Your Grace, this grants legitimacy for you to sit on the Iron Throne. Tywin's Army must be in total disarray and Cercei and her last son don't have the strengths to hold the Realm any longer. It is now clearly time to march over Westeros and win over King's Landing." Jon continues.

"I know all that, Jon." The King stares at him. "If only I had a good leader at the head of my Army. Someone who can directly see what to do, how to place my men, where to set effective attacks. And above all, someone I can trust." He raises a fist to reinforce his words.

"As I said, Your Grace, I need a moment to think all this through." Jon softly voices.

"Are you implying that you would consider the option to be that leader, Jon?" Stannis briskly turns around to face the young man.

"If it's Your Grace's desire, it will be a good part of my thinking, aye."

The King grabs him by the arms to make him stand. "Well, I won't keep you any longer babbling with me then." He happily says. "Go, do what you have to do and when you're ready we'll gladly talk again."

"Thank you, Your Grace. But..." Jon frowns, a bit startled by Stannis' unusual reaction.

"Go, go!" The King sends him away, making gestures with his hands.

The young man bows again and closes the door behind him. "That went better than I thought." He says for himself.

Melisandre enters the room and sits on Stannis lap. "What did I told you about the power of a woman in love." She softly caresses his cheek.

"The lad didn't say anything about her, but I could see it in his eyes. Something did happen." He smirks.

"I think I never saw you so happy since we arrived at this damned cold place, my beloved Sire." She kisses him.

"I am a new man, my fiery Priestess. Maybe you opened my heart as you'd open my eyes to read into the flames?"

"It's you and only you who let the light enter, My King. R'hllor resides in your heart now, his rays shining through your entire soul." She whispers, letting her month trailing from his ear all along his neck.

Stannis softly moans, cupping her head between his hands and taking possession of her mouth.

.

"Ylliria, may I invite Wylis at tonight's supper?" Arya asks.

"Of course, Sweetling. I already ask Sam to come too. We will have a lot to discuss." She giggles.

"Something you want to tell me before they all arrive?" The young woman takes a collusion tone.

"Well, it might be that a certain discussion with a certain person ended up much better than forecasted." She lightly blushes.

"Hum, like a sudden tumble and turn of events?" Arya winks.

"A complete U-turn, aye."

"Will this finally mean the end of our tragedies, you think?" She questions, becoming serious again.

"I dearly hope so, my love. I think we've endured enough." Ylliria caresses her cheek.

A knock on the door cuts the two women off their discussion. Arya flies to open it to let Wylis enter. He hands her a frail little flower. "I took it from the greenhouse garden."

She jumps in his arms and gives him a chaste kiss. "Thank you. It is the most beautiful flower ever. No one ever gave me flowers before."

"Once we'll get back to the North, I will grow a whole field of them, just for you." He smiles.

Someone clearing his throat make them all turn around.

"Sam! Don't stay in the cold. Please do enter." Arya joyfully welcomes him.

"I was afraid to be too early."

"Not at all, have a seat." Ylliria adds. "Bran, this is Samuel Tarly, Jon's best friend."

"Nice to meet you Bran." Sam bows his head. "May I ask you were your brother Rickon is?" He gently requests to make the young boy talk.

"He is still in bed. He was very sick when they find us and still needs some rest."

"I'm sure he will stand on his feet in no time. Ylliria is a very good nurse. She took care of me not so long ago. And look? I'm as fresh as a daisy!" He exclaims.

"Sam also knows a lot of things, Bran. He could be our new Maester at Winterfell. If he wants it?" Arya adds.

"You are very sweet." The chubby man shyly answers, lightly blushing.

Another knock on the door momentarily stops the conversations again.

"How was your meeting with the King?" Ylliria immediately asks Jon while he hangs his cloak at the peg behind the door.

"I first thought he was drunk or something! But no, he just seemed happy." He shrugs.

"No outburst on our escape?"

"No, nothing. That was what startled me in the beginning. You know how he likes to toy with someone. So, I kept myself on my toes, but nothing happened. He even sent me away to think."

"Well, let's take this as a good sign then. Did he mentioned something about my uncle?"

"No, but I will take care of that first thing in the morning." Jon gently smiles at her. "Oh, by the way, Tywin Lannister is dead." He raises his voice for all to hear.

"Dead how?" Wylis asks.

"Killed by his own son, Tyrion." He grabs a seat and sits down next to Sam.

"Was he not already accused for Joffrey's death? Does he have the intention to kill his whole family or so?" The young Sir chortles.

"I'm starting to believe that Melisandre's God of Light really is powerful." Arya retorts.

"I don't think any God, old or new, has something to do with all this."

"Might be that there's still so what justice in this realm then. I just hope all the ones that harmed us will be punished one day or another." Ylliria sadly comes.

"Don't let this evening be clouded by some dark thoughts. We're all here to celebrate." Jon gently puts a hand over hers. "And some around this table have a lot to tell, isn't it?" He turns his gaze toward Bran and winks.

.


	115. Chapter 115

Chapter 115: The Tale

Arya and Ylliria are serving their guest a platter of fresh made fish-stew with onions, carrots, radishes and fresh white bread. They had it all prepared with what was on hand, even managing to hang a cooking pot above their hearth.

The two young women eagerly look around the table, hoping their limited cookery knowledge will do. Bran is the first to raise his gaze from his plate and gives them a wide smirk of contentment, while Sam can't wait to question Jon and Ylliria about their journey behind the Wall. An apple pie - made by the Night-Watch's cook - and hot tea brings this highly improvised supper to a close.

"Before Bran will start his tale, there is something that needs to be said and discussed." Jon suddenly speaks, making all the heads turning towards him. "I've decided to request King Stannis to set me free from my duties as Lord Commander and Sworn Brother of the Night's-Watch."

Arya gives Ylliria a quick knowing smile.

"Why do you want us to discuss this? This is good news." Bran comments.

"Because there is more to it, brother." Jon gently hushes him, raising his gaze to Ylliria. "I suppose I will have to ask your Uncle Rayman, since he is now your next of kin. But, I would like to ask to your blessing as well." He looks around the table. "I'm happy to announce my intention to marry Ylliria." He finally breathes again.

After a moment of surprise, Bran puts a hand over Jon's. "You're my big brother, Jon. And I need my big brother to help me to rebuild Winterfell. Our misadventures made us realize, Rickon and I, how much we need our family and how much we missed them and love them. Now, I just yearn to go home, live a normal life as much as possible and do some boring things." He softly smiles. "You don't need my approval or my blessing, brother. Nothing would give me more joy than having my whole family around me and happy." He turns toward his sister. "Arya, the same goes for you and Wylis." He bends down a little more. "Sir, I just met you, but I welcome you in our family and consider you already as a new brother."

"Thank you, Bran. It's an honor for me to enter the Stark family." Sir Manderly raises his cup of wine in salute.

"This was worthy of a Lord's speech, Bran. I know you'll be a good Lord of Winterfell. And from where he now is, I'm sure our father is very proud of you." Jon says.

"I don't want to become Lord of Winterfell." The young boy retorts.

"Why?"

"How can I be a Lord? I'm a cripple."

"And? Are you a cripple from your head too?" Jon gently smiles. "You still have your wit, right?"

"Aye, but..." Bran looks around.

"We'll all be there to help you, Sweetling." Ylliria cuts in. "But, you're nearly at age and the lawful heir of the Starks."

"I want Jon to have a title!" He flings.

"And he will have one, My Sweet. He will be Lord of Garrymount. Since, we've also decided to rebuild my old family's Castle. My uncle will get the title at first, but since I'm the heir after him, my husband will gain his lordship when he passes."

"Will you live at Garrymount Castle?"

"Not if you prefer having us at Winterfell, we'll stay with you." She smirks.

"I want you to stay... No, I order you to stay." Bran smiles.

"As you wish, My Lord." Jon bows his head towards him. "Now that all this is settled, Bran, will you tell us what you did after Ylliria's departure?"

"We went back and stayed in the catacombs for a while. I just couldn't leave Winterfell." He starts to tell. "But, when Theon and his men put it on fire and killed everyone, Maester Luwin urged us to run for the Wall and rejoin you." He gives a quick look at Jon.

"Word arrived here that Theon killed you as well." The young man replies.

"That is what he wanted everyone to believe. He killed the Miller's grandsons instead. And to make them unrecognizable, he burned them."

"Awful." Wylis whispers.

"When we left Winterfell behind, it was nearly completely destroyed."

"Stones and wood can be replaced, Sweetling." Ylliria comments.

"With our Direwolves as protection, we finally started our journey North. Osha avoided to march on the roads, so we crossed woods and fields. We didn't take the risk to stop at any other castle, since we didn't know who could live there, friends or foes. And we didn't dare to ask the peasants for help, we didn't want to be recognized. Stories came to us that there were a lot of brigands running around, so our march was slow and careful. We finally arrived in Brandon's gift near Queenscrown. While Osha was picking up wood for our campfire, she came face to face with some Wildlings. She discretely followed them and there she saw you amongst them, dressed like them." Bran looks at Jon once more. "I couldn't believe it when she told me. I couldn't believe your betrayal."

"So, it was Summer that helped me to escape from the Wildling that night."

"I thought it went to hunt for food, leaving Shaggydog with us. I kind of suspected that it had attack the Wildlings. When it came back, his mouth was full of blood and it brought no dead prey between its teeth. But, I was still disappointed, lost and frightened. If you turned your cloak, to whom else could we go to? Whom could we trust? Osha said it was best to avoid Castle Black for a while; hide somewhere more to the west till we knew exactly what was happening along the Wall. We changed our hiding place every two or three days. Osha was scouting around, trying to get information from the villagers or listening to the Wildling conversations. When we finally knew that Castle Black was under attack, we didn't dare to move anymore. We found that ruined keep and started to go through it. When we discovered the multiple secret passages, we decided to stay. The woods were not too far where we could find food and wood for the fire and there was a spring running under the keep to give us water. It was the best shelter we ever found."

"What made you finally decide to send Summer for help?" Jon asks.

"One day, Ghost appeared from behind the hearth. It never bore its name so well. It scared the Seven Hells out of us!" Bran softly chuckles. "It showed us the passage through the Wall. I was not sure that wondering around the other side was such a good idea or would save us from our situation. But, when Rickon catches the fever and started to really get worse, I decided to send the Direwolves to the rescue. I know it was a huge risk, but I didn't know what to do else."

"It was a very hard decision to make and needed a lot of courage to take it, Bran." Jon puts a reassuring arm around his shoulders.

"Osha and Hodor were very brave too. Will they stay with us?"

"Of course they will. They are part of the family to now."

"Are we going home yet?" A little voice comes from behind them.

"Rickon, you're not supposed to come out of your bed, my sweet little friend." Ylliria gently tells him off.

"But, I'm hungry." He pleads.

"Hungry is good sign." Jon takes him in his arms and sits him on his lap while Arya put some hot stew in a clean plate.

The little boy grabs a piece of bread and starts to eagerly eat.

.

"I will sleep at the Northern Keep tonight." Arya tells Ylliria, putting her cloak around her shoulder. "I'm sure you still have a lot to discuss, you and Jon." She kisses her on the cheek before taking Wylis' arm.

"It's time for me to go too." Sam comes next. "You know how much I need my sleep."

"Oh yes, I know." Jon smirks, escorting him to the door. "Will you think about my request of you leaving the order as well and coming with us at Winterfell?" He whispers.

"I will, Jon. Even if my decision is already practically made, I know a good night sleep will make it a certainty."

"I'm sure everyone will be very happy to have you with us. I know Arya is very fond of you." He smiles.

"And I'm very fond of all of you." Sam shyly answers. "Good night, Jon." He shakes his hand.

"Good night, my friend. See you tomorrow." The young man closes the door behind his friend. "It seems it's just the two of us now." He smiles, approaching Ylliria. "I still have that urge of something I'd like to do to you."

"Jon, don't get saucy! It doesn't suite you!" She comes, making a false chocked expression.

"Me, saucy? When my heart just claim for a chaste kiss good night? What were you implying, My Lady?" He jests, grabbing her by the waist.

"I wasn't implying nothing more than what your tone of voice tried to make me imply." She caresses his cheek. "I've put Bran and Rickon in Arya's bedroom."

"Hum, hum." He frowns, faking not understanding her meaning.

"So, my bedroom is empty." She whispers, brushing her lips against his.

He gives her a kiss and gently gets rid of her embrace. "Thank you for this nice supper, My Lady. I bid you good night now." He bows, pretending going for the exit door.

"As you wish, good night, Lord Commander." She flings, briskly turning around towards her bedroom.

Jon starts to laugh, seeing her face going angry and catches her back before she has the time to make another step. He lifts her from the ground and carries her to her room.

.

Before requesting an audience with King Stannis, Jon takes one of his last decisions as Lord Commander; freeing Ylliria's Uncle. "As you know, your freedom comes with certain conditions, Mance." He says when opening the prison cell's iron door.

"I signed the Peace Treaty, didn't I?"

"That is for the Wildling part. You will now have to swear the oath of allegiance to the new King of the Realm and to your Northern Liege Lord."

"I bear no title to plead that kind of allegiance."

"Under the ancestral Laws, you're the living Heir of Garrymount."

"From turncloak, traitor and foe of the realm to a Lord, Uncle and Bannerman to the Warden of the North. Quite a situational turnaround, huh?" Mance chuckles, climbing up the stairs to the common hall. "Where are we going?"

"I got a room prepared and some new clothes for you. You'll be more comfortable till we're ready to leave the Wall." Jon advises him. "We'll have to meet with Stannis later today, but there are some other things we need to talk about before." He opens the door for him. "Things that I prefer discuss with you in private."

Mance looks around his new place. "I suppose I'll need to get use to some comfort again." He says, testing the straw mattress on the bed. "And saying goodbye to my real freedom." He stares at Jon.

"You are free, Mance. And as Lord of Garrymount, you will be able to do whatever you'd like; in the lines of the Law of course."

"A framed freedom then." He sighs.

"Mance, please."

"All right, all right." He raises his arms in the air. "What were those things you wanted to talk about?"

Jon clears his throat. "Hum... First of all, I'd like to ask your permission to marry your niece Ylliria."

Mance bursts into laughter. "It's about time! You finally came to your senses, my boy! Way to go!" He exclaims. "I really thought you'd never come to it!"

"Well, better late than never!" Jon starts to laugh too.

"My boy, you don't need my blessing or my consent or any other term you want to use for it. Just do it, live in glorious happiness and make me lots of grand-nieces and nephews! What else?"

"King Stannis wants me as the leader of his Army. You're a good strategist and you can lead men too."

Mance sighs again, rising from the bed and starting to pace around the room. "I'm tired of war and fights, Jon. I yearn to finish my years quietly, having a new wife, going hunting... You know, making simple things."

"I need you at my side, Mance. Please, do this with me. I expect a short resolution, now that Tywin Lannister is dead. His daughter won't be able to hold the throne much longer."

"Don't be so presumptuous, my boy. Some women have more abilities and strength and we often underestimate them."

"Do you mean I would take Ylliria as my right arm instead?" Jon flings.

"Do you have the intention to depose her from your future council?" Mance retorts. "If you want my advice, I wouldn't do that. She has a good aura amongst her Lords and soldiers. They respect her and listen to her."

"She'll stay in our council, but I need all the people I can trust around me. I won't make the same mistakes my brother did." Jon's face suddenly turns sad.

Mance puts his hands on the young man's shoulders. "I'm deeply touched by what you just said, my boy. But honestly, I feel the lack of strength to live through another war. And I'm not sure the other Lords would appreciate my presence."

"As you said, Ylliria has the Northern Lords ear and heart. They won't go against any of her decisions. Please, be in our council as a consultant then."

"Give me some time to think about it. Are you certain Stannis wants to see me?"

"You have to pledge the allegiance and receive your title."

"Well, let's get rid of that already." Mance smile, taking Jon by the shoulders and leading him outside.

.


	116. Chapter 116

Epilogue: A next generation

"Your Grace." Jon and Mance bow in front of Stannis as they are entering his office.

"Did you finally come to an understanding?" The King asks, right to the point.

"Aye, Your Grace. We did." Jon hands him a first roll of paper. "These are my thoughts on the reorganization of the order of the Night's-Watch. I give my preference to Cotter Pike as new Lord Commander and to raise the ranger named Grenn as Sir and Commander of Eastwatch. I let them choose a steward of their liking."

"Hum, hum." Stannis continues to read the paper and starts to chuckle. "Smart move to send Slynt with the first garrison of men I'll send to rebuild the ruined castles along the Wall. He won't be able to refuse this honor without putting himself in an awkward situation."

"He insisted so much to please you, Your Grace." Jon takes the King's jest.

"For sure." Stannis smiles. "Oh, this is interesting." He raises his gaze. "You'd like me to write a warrant of arrest for everyone who was around the table during the Red Wedding and send those prisoners to re-populate the Wall as seasoned soldiers. There are a lot of noble men on that list, Jon. They have the right to a fair trial. I already told you I want to be a King without a blood bill in my hands."

"You also promised the Lady Ylliria vengeance for the murder of her husband, my brother, for Catelyn Stark and all the good Northern men who were killed in the most despicable way." Jon comments.

"I know what I said and I will keep that promise!" The King flings. "All in due time and it will be done within the framework of the Ancient Laws of Westeros. I want 'Fair justice for All' be reinstated in this Realm. I will not stand any other massacre or self-vengeance vendettas! I will sit on the Iron Throne with above reproachable means. This is the start of a new era. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Your Grace." Jon's gaze drops on the floor.

"Let say I finally agree to write those warrants, it will be with the supreme order to bring those men alive and unharmed to face their trial. And only I will decide of their fair sentence."

"It will be done as Your Grace wishes."

"Good. What's next?"

"Sir Rayman Bennett is here to sign the Edict of allegiance to the King and be named Lord of Garrymount under your banner, Your Grace."

"Mance, your case gave me some sleepless nights. To be totally honest with you, I was really not in favor of letting you go free after all your crimes. But, I won't risk jeopardizing my first real chance to put this Realm on its feet again, just for one single man. Consider yourself very lucky to have noble blood running through your veins and to be the exception in my claim for a new and fair justice."

"I was raised as a noble man, Your Grace and have the pretension to believe I still am. I was fighting for what I thought to be a right cause. Some of the people living behind this Wall are humans like you and I. They were just at the wrong place at the wrong time when this Ice structure was build."

"If they follow the Laws of our Realm, they are welcome to live among us. If they don't, they will be punished like any other man in Westeros." Stannis finally opens a wooden box on his desk, grabs a roll of parchment and hands it to Mance. Rayman takes a quill, dips it into the inkwell and puts its signature at the bottom of the document. "Now, last but not least." The King smiles, blowing on the paper to make sure it dries before re-rolling it. "Who will finally be my new Lord of Winterfell and head of my Northern Army?" He stares at Jon.

"Your Grace, Bran Stark is the next of kin and Heir of Winterfell. He is by Law be the next Lord of Winterfell."

"But, that is leaving you without a title, Jon."

"If Your Grace permits, I would request of you to remove my taint of bastardy and would gladly take the name of Stark. I also have the intention to wed the Lady Ylliria and be the Lord's guardian till Bran will be of age to wed as well."

"This is a quite unorthodox request, Jon." Stannis comments. "That would leave you with a title of Sir and to be the head of the Army I really need to have a Lord." After a long moment of reflection, he raises from his seat. "Hear my decision and it's not negotiable. Jon Stark, you'll be named Lord of Winterfell and Bran Stark as your legitimate Heir. If, in the course of his life, he produces legitimate sons, his firstborn will be next in line. If not, your own children will continue the blood line. To House Garrymount, Lord Rayman Bennett, alias Mance Rayder, will take wife as soon as possible to perpetuate its own blood line. If at Rayman's death no male child was produced, House Stark will give the title to the next in line after the Heir of Winterfell." He briskly turns around to face the two men. "Think about it, I just made both your Houses the most powerful ones in the North. Don't disappoint me now." He smiles.

"We won't, Your Grace." Mance surprisingly answers first. "And we thank you for your trust."

"Jon?"

"I accept those terms, Your Grace." The young man finally voices.

"One last thing, Jon, I'd like that your wedding takes place here at the Wall, in my presence and under R'hllor's blessing. My Priestess Melisandre will lead the ceremony."

"As Your Grace knows, we were raised under the protection of the Old Gods."

"The Lord of Light will be the new religion in the Realm, as soon as I'll sit on the throne. But, I won't forbid you to have another ceremony once back in Winterfell." The King sits back in his chair. "That will be all for now, My Lords." He dismisses them.

"Your Grace." Mance and Jon bow again and leave the room.

.

A few days later, a huge banquet is organized in the main dinner Hall to celebrate Ylliria and Jon's wedding. Every soldier or Sworn Brother that could play an instrument was invited to entertain the party. There is not much room for a real dance, but with ale and wine flowing in abundance, the guests manage to start a jig around the newlyweds.

"Do you think they will ask for a bedding?" Ylliria worriedly whispers in Jon's ear.

"No, the men will already have enough to talk about with a wedding that was celebrated at the Wall. Sam checked in the archive and could not find trace of one precedent in the whole history of the Night's Watch." He jests.

"I'm sure the 998th Lord Commander will be recognized for his collection of precedence during his short duty." She jokes back, making him burst into laughter.

"If a few months back, someone would have told me that I'd marry you and be named Lord of Winterfell, I would have questioned his sanity."

"Jon, are you happy? I mean, I hope we didn't force your hand on any of this."

"No, you did not, My Love." He takes her hand in his and lightly squeezes it. "I know it's hard to comprehend my ways of thinking sometimes. And I won't lie; I'm still dealing with some of the aspects of it. But, I am happy right now, with you. My concerns are more: Will I be able to continue my father and Robb's path? Will I have the strengths to restore the Stark name and honor as it was before?"

"All of us are behind you and we will help you as much as we can. We are a family again, recomposed and blood mixed maybe, but a family in our hearts."

"Please remind me that when I start to doubt again." He smiles.

"Oh, you can count on me for such mission."

"I know I can." He rolls his eyes.

Arya suddenly comes between them. "My Lord, My Lady? Would you please be so kind to follow us? We have something we wanted to show you." She giggles.

"My Lady, it would be an honor to lead you. Please take my arm." Wylis offers.

"And you come with me, my dear brother." Arya puts her hand under Jon's elbow.

"What in the Old God's Heaven did they come up with?" He gives Ylliria a worried look.

They lead the newlywed couple to the Lord Commander's tower. Sam is waiting in front of the main door, a huge smile on his face. "If you would mind to enter." He ceremoniously bows. "We thought that you might appreciate a little privacy in this odd environment. We set up a nice and comfortable bedroom on the second floor, with a fire in the hearth and all the softest pelts we could gather." He climbs the stairs and shows them the place. "Tomorrow morning, a nice breakfast will be ready for you. And we have ordered to all not to disturb you for any reason or mean, under penalty of sanctions." He tries to suppress a laugh. "My Lord, My Lady, we hope you'll enjoy your stay in our one-day Inn." He bows again.

"Samuel Tarly!" Jon grabs him in a bear hug. "I love you!"

"Oh dear, no, no, no… Come on now, not in front of your spouse. What would she think? The Night's Watch already has a sort of reputation; don't make anyone think it could be true!" The chubby man jests, trying to get rid of the embrace.

"Do you want to know what the spouse thinks, Sam? Well, she thinks that you're the most adorable man in this realm… And I love you too!" She jumps in his arms. "Thank you all." She turns towards Arya and Wylis.

"Hey, it's just selfish thinking here, I'd like to become a grand-uncle very soon." Mance appears at the top of the stairs. "All right, folks, leave them alone now!" He orders the others.

As soon as they are alone, Jon carries Ylliria in his arms. "I know we didn't have a conventional wedding. But, some traditions can be kept anyways." He enters the bedroom, kicking the door close with his foot and gently brings her to the bed. She surrounds his face with her hands and starts to kiss him. He delicately lays her down, not breaking their embrace.

.

Three weeks later, a small Army, composed of Northern men and a part of Stannis' contingent, is ready to leave Castle Black to start the reconquest of the Realm campaign. At their head, Jon Stark, the new Lord of Winterfell and Warrant of the North.

"May our Lord of Light, R'hllor guide and illuminate your path, My Lord." Melisandre tells him just before he mounts his new stallion.

"What did you see in your flames, My Lady? Will he give us men and courage to succeed?" Jon flings back.

"Do you remember what I told you when you were named Lord Commander?"

"Not really." He shrugs.

"I told you that I was seeing you riding a white stallion, wearing a flamboyant armor, your longsword in hand, entering the yard of a ruined Castle, acclaimed by a crowd of scrawny people. You laugh at my prophecy back then. But, look at you today." She smiles.

"I'll give you that, My Lady." He smiles too. "And I apologize for my arrogance."

"You have now been blessed in the Light of R'hllor. He will give you the power to accomplish your mission. Next time we'll meet, it will be in King's Landing for the crowning of our beloved King Stannis."

"Don't leave too soon for that journey, My Lady. Our road will be long and hazardous. And I would be sad to learn you were waiting for me in front of a locked door."

"Let me be the judge of that, My Lord." Melisandre starts to laugh.

Jon grabs the reins and jumps on his saddle. He looks over his shoulder to check that all are ready and gives the order of departure raising a fist in the air.

.

Word spreads around fast that a new Lord of Winterfell is en route to the castle. As the newly constituted Northern Army passes by, all the villagers are gathering along the road to acclaim them.

Aside of some minor altercation with groups of brigands; they don't find much resistance during their progression.

"Another couple of days and we'll be in sight of Winterfell. I hope the rebuilding I ordered ahead has made some progress. I want to make a surprise for Ylliria." Jon comments.

"I'm sure all of you will be pleased to see the castle again, even in repair." Lord Umber smiles. "I suppose the real battles will start when we'll cross the Barrowlands and to the Neck, My Lord."

"Eager to fight, Lord Umber?"

"It is now way to long since I got the chance to use my Longsword." The Greatjon gently taps on the engraved handle hanging on his side. "And it's also time our people to live in peace again."

"May that the Old Gods hear your words." Jon sighs. "I decided to stay in Winterfell till we know the exact number of our forces. We'll then send word to Torrhen's Square, Barrowtown, Moat Cailin and Riverrun's Castles soon as we'll be on our way."

"And what about the Twins?"

"I have in mind to siege the place coming from both sides of the river. That's why I need to know the forces we could expect from our Bannermen Lords. But before all that, I'd rather inform King Stannis about our current situation. We'll need more of his men too."

"I'll prepare a council at our next halt, My Lord." Lord Umber turns his horse and rejoins his contingent.

.

Jon lets himself fall on the bed in their tent.

"How was the Council?" Ylliria asks, closing the book she was reading.

"We're making progress in evaluating what we might find ahead of us. Scouts and ravens are coming from every corner of the Northern Realm. The Ironborn have withdrawn from most of the inland castles. They still have Deepwood Motte, though. I'll request Stannis' men to take care of that." He sighs.

"You seem totally exhausted, My Love." She gently strokes his hair.

"And we're not even half-way through yet." He chuckles.

"Do you have doubts again?" She smiles.

"No, Sweetheart. No doubts. But, I need your strengths." He shifts on his side, placing his hand on the back of her neck to kiss her.

"Take all you need." She lets her book fall on the floor to welcome his embrace.

.

As forecasted, two days later they are in sigh of Winterfell's towers. Ylliria sees someone running towards them on the road. She jumps from the carriage as soon as she recognizes her friend Belinda. "Oh, all the Gods be blessed!" She grabs her in her arms, tears running down her face.

"My Lady… My dear dear Lady." The kitchen maid sobs. "With all the stories we've heard, I thought I'd never see you again."

"Me too. I was so scared that you'd be captured or even dead."

"The Gods were good to us, My Lady. Ailwin and our boy are all right too. We escaped from the Mill before that bird of ill omen of Greyjoy murderer came along. We found refuge with Ailwin's uncle till we heard that the Lord of Winterfell was coming back. We could not believe our ears, My Lady."

"I know a lot happened since we've been separated. But, we'll now have all the time in the world to catch up on our adventures." Ylliria takes her back in her arms. "For now, let me enjoy your presence, my sweet Belinda. You cannot imagine how glad I am to see you."

"Is it true, My Lady? You finally married your true love?" The maid whispers.

"It seems so." Ylliria bursts into laughter.

"Belinda!" A joyful boy's voice rises from behind.

"My sweet little Lord, so happy to see you." She lightly bows before Rickon jumps in her arms.

"I thought I'd never see those towers again. I feel kind of awkward." Jon comments, dismounting from his horse.

"My Lord." The maid deeply curtseys. "Welcome home."

"Thank you, Belinda." He takes her by the elbow to lift her up. "No need for too much ceremony." He smiles.

"As you can see, my dear husband still needs to adapt to his new duties." Ylliria jests.

"Did you find enough workers?" Jon asks the maid.

"Aye, please follow me, I'll show you."

"They are rebuilding the Castle already?" Ylliria asks with a wide smile over her face, looking around the yard.

"I wanted to make you a surprise. I hope the Hall and the bedrooms are already livable."

"They are, My Lord." Ailwin says, standing in the doorway.

"Nice to see you again, Ailwin." Jon holds out his arm for a handshake.

They all climb the stairs. Jon hesitates for a moment to open the Lord's bedroom door, remembering when his father lived here. Ylliria grabs his hand and lightly squeezes it.

"Where are our bedrooms?" Rickon asks Ailwin, followed by Bran on Hodor's back.

"Come with me, My Little Lords. I'll show you."

"Talking about surprises." Ylliria closes the door for them to have a moment alone. "I have one for you too. I didn't tell anyone yet. I wanted you to be the first to know." She snuggles in his arms.

"And what would that be?" He kisses her forehead.

"Well, I hope you'd like it."

"By all the Gods, Ylliria, stop the torture. Say it!" He gently tells her of.

"I'm with child, Jon."

"What? Are you sure? I mean, really?" He stutters, instinctively putting a hand over her belly.

"You can't see it yet, but aye, I'm sure." She covers his hand with hers.

"Me, becoming a father… So soon…" He worriedly comments.

"I know. But, you'll have time to get around that idea, Sweetheart. It's only due for another six months. And in my eyes you are ready and already one. You do very well with Bran and Rickon."

"I love you, Ylliria." He whispers in her ear, hugging her tight.

"I love you too, Jon."

A new generation of Stark has settling down in Winterfell.

THE END

.

**I would like to thank all of you who took the time to read this story and all the future ones that maybe will do. **

**I hope you've/'ll enjoy it as much as I took pleasure to write it. **

**I really learned a lot making it and that alone is worth the time consuming. **

**And why not, I might find another idea for a next story. ;-)**

**Thank you, thank you, thank you... And take care.**


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